


My Mind I Find In Time

by galinda



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, M/M, Prison, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 161,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galinda/pseuds/galinda
Summary: Alexander Lightwood had spent too much time alone with himself. As he is released from a six year stay in federal prison, he finds himself forced to face his fears. But would he be able to stay afloat in a sea of secrets?
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Maia Roberts
Comments: 274
Kudos: 380





	1. My Mind I Find In Time

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that while this story will never depict anything graphic, it does deal with heavy material that may be triggering to readers.

“So, she starts yelling at me on the phone, saying how I don’t know her. And all I’m thinking is how do I not know this woman? Three kids with this woman and she won’t even come pick me up after four years. Like I’m not the one who was paying for all the fucking after school activities and shit. I bought her everything she asked for. New bags, new jewelry, new clothes. I barely so much get a thanks. It doesn’t matter what I do, she doesn’t say thank you, because she’s an ungrateful bitch who doesn’t know what she’s got. If it wasn’t for me, she would be working a street corner. When I met her, she was cutting hair at some broke fucking salon, not worth anything. I’m so sick of these women thinking they can just walk all over me, like they’re calling the shots, you know, man? The second I’m off this bus, I’m going to the liquor store and buying as much as I can and getting wasted, right there in the parking lot. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m living for me now.” 

As the bus comes to a hard stop, Alec braces himself, feeling his Chucks sliding against the metal floor. He feels his body lurch forward, his nose nearly connecting with the torn leather seat. The smell of tobacco stings his nose. At the front of the bus, the driver starts letting people off, silently watching them step down the stairs. “Smell that fresh New York air?” the man next to him says. “I’m finally home, man. I don’t give a fuck anymore, I’m living how I want,” he hastily pushes past Alec, his duffle bag bumping against his chest. Slowly, Alec forces himself up, last in line. His legs feel weak, every step forward like pushing through thick mud. Once he reaches the open door, the driver nods. Alec stops, staring at the man for a moment, counting the wrinkles around his eyes. He holds his breath, and steps off the last step, his foot landing on the asphalt of the parking lot. As soon as he’s off, the doors close, and behind him, he hears the bus drive off. 

The cold air stings his throat, and the smell of gasoline from the station across the street feels intoxicating. He can feel the pebbles of the street cutting into his shoes, worn down to the last layer. As more cars around him start driving off, the sound of the tires on the asphalt starts to consume Alec’s head. He feels his chest start pounding, his pulse throbbing in his head. With a gasp for air, he tightens his grip on his bag, his knuckles turning white. Just before he can crouch down, there’s footsteps in front of him. Black stilettos walk in front of him, stopping a few feet away. 

“Alexander.” It is a voice that makes Alec’s back muscles tighten, and he straightens his posture. “It’s time to go home.” His mother starts walking to the car, her back to him. He never noticed the grey strands of hair in her visits, he was too busy avoiding eye contact. Her hair was cut shorter, resting just above her shoulders. He could see a few loose strands on her black blazer, matching the tight skirt that fit her waist just right. She exuded uptown, from the expensive perfume, to the meticulously placed jewelry. Real pearl earrings. A facelift. She had always fretted about looking old, Alec has memories of her applying anti-aging cream from even his earliest years. 

The car was different, a newer model of the one she had when she dropped him off at Riker’s six year prior. It smelled new, not even so much as a used coffee cup in sight. Hesitantly, Alec climbs into the passenger seat, feeling guilty for tainting the polished leather. He looks down at his nails, picking at the dirt that had built up. His mother turns on the radio, and audiobook about chimpanzee behavior in Africa. The soothing voice of the narrator makes Alec relax, and he leans back in the seat, looking out the window. They pass lines of stores and restaurants, bright neon signs flashing _open!_ stinging Alec’s eyes. The sun rising behind the New York skyline, peeking behind the tall buildings. 

His mother parks in the same spot that she did the last time Alec was in the parking garage. The cars around it were different. There had been a white SUV always parked two spots to the right from the spot marked _5B._ It wasn’t there, replaced by a bright red Porsche, hard on the eyes. Alec walks behind his mother, pretending he doesn’t notice her peeking around every corner, checking for anyone. It was early enough that no one else was out yet, still getting ready for work in the luxury of their Brooklyn apartments. In the elevator, Alec stares at himself, his reflection distorted in the metal. His hair was longer that he usually kept it, tucked behind his ears, falling just below the top of his shoulders. It curled around his jaw line, more prominent than he remembered. Freckles scattered around his nose, new from spending hours in the sun without protection every day. He tried to never spend more than ten minutes in the showers, never taking the time to look at himself in the mirror. 

“Your bedroom is the same,” his mother says, her voice quiet. “I have to finish some things before work. Your brother won’t wake up for another hour. I told him that you wouldn’t be home until this afternoon so he wouldn’t be late for school, so be quiet.” Alec doesn’t say anything, he just nods and walks down the hall. 

Third door on the left. For a moment he stares, eyes catching on the beaded bracelets hanging on the doorknob where he left them. Slowly, he turns the handle, opening the door. It creaks, louder than it did before. Alec walks in slowly, feeling his body become heavier. As quiet as possible, he closes the door behind him. The room is dark, but he can see the outline of his desk and dresser, the posters on the wall the same as he remembers. For a moment, he considers digging through it all, holding onto everything. The small ceramic figure his sister had made in her art class freshman year still sat on his bedside table. The alarm clock flashed 12, not bothered to be readjusted after a power outage. Walking forward, Alec’s eyes catch on a calendar depicting a picture of the Appalachians. The second Monday is circled, the words _chem exam_ written in red ink. Before Alec can think much more of it, he falls forward, collapsing onto the mattress. 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s staring at a blank grey ceiling, clean and smooth. It startles him at first, unfamiliar to the beige clay bricks he was used to. Cars honk in the street below, traffic as it always had been. Alec’s whole body ached, every joint creaking as he forced himself to sit up. He sits in his bed for a few minutes, taking in the bedroom the same as he had left it that day. That day, that started just like the rest. The sunlight now lit the room enough that Alec could make out the words on the posters on the walls. Above the door, a horizontal black and white poster with an overlook of the city. Next to his desk, another black and white poster, decorated in green letters reading _Night of the Living Dead._ He had put it up in the 8th grade, a birthday gift. 

Alec swings his feet around the bed, forcing himself up, shoes still on from the morning. He walks forward, to the desk. Stacked in the middle are four library books, the stickers still attached from the high school he checked them out from. There’s a half-eaten granola bar in the trash bin, mixed in with a few crumpled papers. He reaches down and picks it up, trying to break it in half, but it’s as hard as a hockey puck. After a minute he gives up, tossing it back into the can with a loud _plunk._

As he wanders outside the room, he listens for anyone, only to be met by silence. His parents would be at work, and Max, at school. Isabelle had moved in her first year of college, nowhere in sight. He puts his hands out, touching the smooth walls of the hallway as he slowly stalked forward. Some things were the same. The family photos on the wall, a magnet from Niagara Falls on the fridge. But some things were different. A different toaster, neatly tucked in between the fruit basket and the espresso machine. A metal spatula sitting in the sink instead of the wood one. 

Alec looks at the fridge, but shakes his head. He paces the hallway for a moment, before walking into his parent’s bedroom. It was the same, candles scattered around, eight pillows on the bed. It looked more like a display at a department store, rather than a lived-in master bedroom. It always had. His parents didn’t like to display their personalities. On the wall, Alec stares at a family photo, from the day his younger brother had been born. He and his sister were young, only 4 and 6. His mother and father were smiling, his mother’s face flush from the grueling labor. Hair still sat on his father's head, dark and wavy like Alec’s. In the photo, a young Alec smiles, holding onto his mother’s hand, tight. He only wished he remembered the day; he couldn’t picture it no matter how hard he tried. 

The master bathroom of the apartment was larger than the block Alec had slept in serving his time. At least twenty products were stacked on the shelf in the shower, which was big enough to have a small bench built in. Hesitantly, Alec removes his clothes, watching as he drops them to the floor. The color was faded, the fabric worn. After waiting for the water to warm up, Alec steps in, his knee nearly buckling at the feeling of the hot water. Steam surrounded him as he reached for the body wash, squirting out more than he probably needed. He runs his hands across his body, fingers gently brushing against the outline of his collar bones, down to the jagged edges of his ribcage. As his hands traveled down to his hip bone, jutting out more than he remembered, he leans against the smooth tiles on the wall. He opens his eyes, ignoring the stinging as the water splashed into his face, expecting to be surrounded by a dozen other bodies, passing around bars of soap under the weak faucets pouring out ice cold water. Goosebumps lined their skin, some heavily scarred, others covered with tattoos. There was no privacy, someone's eyes were always on Alec’s body, whether they wanted to or not. 

But instead, it’s silent aside from the running water, empty. Alec almost wants to laugh, but instead returns to washing up. He loses track of time as he shampoos his hair, choosing the expensive salon grade his mother preferred. It smelled like cherry blossoms, and the fragrance made Alec feel a shiver down his spine. He had grown used to the smell of sweat bodies, slabs of meat served on half-washed trays and the metallic scent of blood when people would start fighting. 

Alec stands in the water, watching the tone of the skin turn red from the heat. When it starts to run cold, he turns the water off and steps out, covering himself with a towel, smooth and fluffy. The time on the clock in his parent’s room read _3:43,_ meaning someone would be home soon, and Alec didn’t want to be caught nude. 

In his bedroom, he looks through the closet, trying his best to ignore all the memories that came with each garment. None of the clothing had been touched since he left, some shirts still half hanging the way he had left them six years before. He settles on plain, beige sweatshirt and old Adidas sweatpants, both pieces of clothing baggier on his body than they were when he bought them. They reminded him of the school days he would wake up late, throwing on whatever he could find before rushing downstairs and jogging the five blocks to get to class on time. 

Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, he hears the door open, and someone shuffles in. He listens as they kick off their shoes, most likely in the direction of the living room. Within a couple minutes, the microwave is on, and the smell of day-old beans and cheese fill the apartment. Max was home, he always had leftovers from the night before right after school. That, Alec remembered. While his family had visited him more in the beginning, over the years their visits became scarcer, dwindling down to just holidays and his birthday. He hadn’t seen Max in person in just under three years, only speaking to him on the phone whenever they did pick up his calls. 

After taking a deep breath, Alec ventures out of his room, and down the hall. As he enters the front of the apartment, he makes eye contact with his younger brother. In the past few years, Max had hit a growth spurt, shooting up to be just as tall as his older brother. He was still a little chubby, but the weight had distributed differently, evening out between his now broad shoulders and tone thighs. The baby fat in his face was gone, replaced with a defined jaw line with just a hint of facial hair above his lip. Just like his parents, Max kept himself well-groomed and proper, styling his hair back, out of his face and wearing fitted sweaters and button-ups. In Alec’s head, he was still the gangly, awkward twelve-year old that wouldn’t let him go when he got dropped off at the facility. Now, Max would be graduating high school, moving onto the next era of his life, all achieved without the guidance of his older brother. 

“Alec,” Max says, his voice now deeper than Alec could have ever imagined it to be. “I can’t believe you’re here!” He surges forward, catching Alec in a tight embrace that Alec reciprocates, trying to ignore the smell of Max’s cologne. Max leans back, eye to eye with his brother, hands resting on Alec’s boney shoulders. “This feels unreal,” he says. “I’ve missed you so much, I can hardly believe you’re here.” 

“I...” Alec starts talking, trailing off. His voice was hoarse, he hadn’t spoken to anyone or had water in over twenty-four hours. “I missed you too,” he chokes out. Max heads into the kitchen, filling two glasses of water from the fridge. He places the glasses on the table, and motions for Alec to sit down. 

“You used the big shower,” Max says, digging into his reheated food. “I can smell Mom’s shampoo on you.” Alec blushes, shrinking into his chair, slowly sipping the water. “I don’t blame you. Plus, I’m sure Mom won’t mind, considering the quality of living you’ve been used to all these years.” He waits for Alec to respond, but when he’s just met with a stare, he continues. “I hope that wasn’t too forward. It’s just... you know how Mom is. After you left, she watched documentaries and read articles and everything. You know how she likes to be over-prepared for everything. I mean, we all have a general sense of what prison is like... so I’m sure a nice shower was the first thing on your list when you got out, right?” 

“I don’t have a list... but it was nice to be alone,” Alec admits. He can feel Max watching his every move, calculated. It was exactly as Alec had feared: he would be seen more as a spectacle, someone who had been through something his family would never understand. He was no longer just the eldest son, he was the eldest son with a record, the eldest son who was in jail, surely a talking point at many of the uptown parties his parents frequented. He knew their uptight friends had surely talked about him behind their back, losing points in their socialite status. And Max was no different. Alec had thought about it countless times as he laid in his bunk. Surely after failing their first-born, his siblings would get the ultimate Lightwood molding. And Max was a product of that. Just from looking at him, Alec knew he was destined to be a successful, business-savvy socialite, just like his father. The son that their father had always wanted. 

Max continues to talk his ear off, mostly about how school was going. He wasn’t top of his class, but he was in the top ten. He hadn’t heard back yet, but all the schools he applied to were ivy league, and most of them were out of state. At around 5:30, Max set the table, arranging everything into five neat settings. He explained that Isabelle would be coming home, excited about their first full family dinner in years. He also explained that since getting promoted, his Mother never made dinner anymore, and would bring home takeout from a fancy restaurant. 

By 6:00, both of his parents had gotten home. He was met with a short hug by his father, which surprised Alec. The last time he had seen him was two years before, two days after Alec’s twenty-second birthday. He came angry, scolding Alec for a few minutes before walking out, escorted by a correctional officer. “My son,” he said, his voice stern as ever. “I’m so happy we get to eat and live as a family again.” He seemed mostly unchanged, aside from a few more wrinkles surrounded his eyes and a well-groomed dark mustache above his cracked lips. Alec had been taller than his father since he was fifteen, but Robert Lightwood had a way to make himself the biggest person in the room just from his glare. 

Just as Alec finishes helping mother move the food from to-go boxes to dishes, the door bursts open, revealing Isabelle. She screams at the sight of her brother, and runs forward, pulling him into a tight hug. She was dressed more adult than he remembered, now wearing a designer top and a necklace that was probably worth more than what Alec made on his $0.92 an hour wage at Rikers. Her hair was dark and shiny, pulled back in a tight pony tail that showed off her flawless makeup. “I can’t believe you’re finally here!” She exclaims. “I brought some stuff for you,” she says, holding up a paper bag. 

She pulls out every item, naming them as she went. “Organic shampoo and conditioner, organic lotion made from coconut oil- it will completely hydrate your skin in just days- a journal and new pens- I read that journaling can help relieve stress- a subway pass- it's mine, but I don’t use it anyway- and multivitamins. You’ll have to take those three times a day to make up for all the lack of nutrition. I recommend them to all my clients so I know they work, and-” 

“Isabelle,” their mother cuts in. “We can continue after dinner.” On instinct, Isabelle immediately stops talking and sits at the table. Alec is last to join, sitting where he normally used to sit: in between his sister and mother, across from his father. The rest of his family dig into their food, but he finds himself just staring at the plate. He hadn’t eaten in over three days. In his last few days in custody, he had grown cocky, and looked forward to being out so much that he had skipped all of his meals. 

His father jumps into a story about someone in the office below his, explaining how they had quit with a big scene. Alec’s siblings crack up at the story, but he just sits there, staring at the mound of pasta in front of him. Maryse watches as he looks at it, raising an eyebrow. As Max starts talking about his day at school, Alec slowly wraps the noodles around his fork and plunges it into his mouth. The taste of the wine sauce explodes in his mouth, and feels like the best thing he has ever tasted. He knew there were other inmates who would quite literally kill to get their hands on something so good. Before he realizes it, he’s digging into his plate almost barbarically, shoveling the pasta down his throat. At first, he doesn’t realize that the rest of his family are all staring at him. 

He forces down a large bite, chewing as quickly as he can, feeing the sauce smear around his lips. His throat stings, overwhelmed by the sudden large amount of food. “Sorry,” he stutters out, cleaning his face and swallowing the food down with water. Everyone looks at him expectantly, and he knew what they wanted to hear. “Most of the food at Riker’s was like cardboard... these are the softest noodles I’ve had since I can remember. Uh... thank you,” he looks at his mother, who forces a smile before returning to her plate. 

“I got tomorrow off from work so I could take you to all the good shops,” Isabelle says. “I know you need new clothes, and it’s all my treat. Plus, I’m sure you’re dying to go outside and walk around.” 

Before Alec can answer, Maryse speaks up. “I’m sure Alec would love that,” she says. “But first, you’ll have to drive him to his first therapy appointment at ten.” 

“We never talked about therapy,” Alec says, his voice finally matching the volume of his family members. 

“We don’t need to,” Maryse counters. “Many offenders reoffend, Alec. And many former inmates need therapy after serving their time. I know you just got out, but let's be realistic. You don’t have any plans, a job to get back to. Readjusting to society is going to be difficult, so I got you one of the best therapists in the city. You’ll love it.” Another thing Alec feared was coming true. He was a statistic to the outside world, and they all knew what was best for him without even asking. Sitting at the same table he had grown up with, despite his mother's greying hair, or Max’s journey through puberty, his family was the same. Alec was the one who changed. 

After listening to Isabelle go on about the multivitamins and what foods Alec should eat to replenish his body for an hour, he retires to his room. It feels foreign sitting in on the bed, displaced. Every polaroid on his bulletin board brings back a different memory, some he wished he could forget. The Alec in those photos was a different person, fresh faced, smiling. He looks at a photo from his junior year, him and his prom date, Lydia. He knew that she probably went on to college like everyone else he knew, probably was starting her career or going to graduate school. Maybe she was engaged, or married. The guilt was starting to build up in his chest, and he started digging through the bottom drawer of his desk. After a moment, he finds a half empty pack of cigarettes, a habit that started when he was fifteen. 

He walks back to the living room, walking behind Max and his Mother, who were watching the news together. They watched as he walked onto the balcony, sitting down and looking out at the skyline in front of him. The lights shown in the night sky, too bright, out shining the stars. Brake lights flashed on and off in the streets. Shining billboards switched from one ad to the next. Everything was so busy, despite it getting dark. Alec remembers times square on Halloween, fake blood staining his shirt, laughing with his friends, their eyes glistening in the bright lights. 

With a sigh, he lights the cigarette, and then inhales as much as he could. The smoke burns his throat, but its familiar. It had been years since he smoked. At one point he kept cigarettes in his mattress, contraband he had bought from someone. But then an officer found them during a search, and Alec had to clean the toilets as punishment for a week. He never quite forgot the smell. He exhales, watching the smoke disappear into the cold air. 

Behind him, the door slides open, and his mother steps out. The living room is dark, Max gone. They don’t say anything, but Alec nearly doubles takes when his mother pulls out a cigarette of her own and lights it. He sees the comfort in her face. 

“Don’t tell your father,” she says. “He thinks I quit after you were born.” Alec scoffs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. They sit in silence for a few minutes before Maryse speaks again. “Six years is a long time,” she starts. 

“After a while it all sort of blends together,” Alec says. It was true, there were certain moments in Alec’s time that he remembers. Check points. Certain people he had frequently talked to, some he would miss. But after a while of doing the same thing, confined to the same space, he forgot that time was going by. 

Maryse sighs, and Alec watches the smoke disappear from her breath. “Things may seem hard right now, Alexander,” she says. “But you’ll persevere. You’re a Lightwood. You’ll get through it.” 

Sitting across from Alec in the office of the therapist sat a little girl, chewing gum loudly, smacking her lips. She stared straight ahead at him, her bright blue eyes piercing into his skin. Her glare poked through her thick eyebrows, nearly sending chills down his spine. Her feet swayed back and forth, dangly just above the pale grey carpet. In the ten minutes she had been watching him, she had looked away twice. Once to watch the secretary feed the fish in the tank that sat against the wall. The second time to glance at the TV as the news showed a video of two dogs singing. 

His mother had laid out an outfit for him that morning, like she did when he was in elementary school. A faded black button up shirt, the sleeves too long, falling to the tip of his thumb. When his dress pants refused to stay on his waist, she had given up and let him wear the same sweatpants he slept in. Still, he wore the same shoes that he walked out of the prison in. He had bought them when he was sixteen, and hadn’t so much as changed the laces. 

Just as Alec was close to leaving the office, the secretary called his name. The little girl watched intently as he was escorted down a hallway, past a series of offices. At the end of the hall the was a clear office door with a neat sign reading _Luke_ _Garroway_ _, MD._ The secretary opened it for him, smiling with teeth that were too white. Alec muttered his thanks, and walked in, feeling himself become shaky. 

Dr. Garroway was taller than Alec, clean cut. His suit was pressed, not a single wrinkle visible. The color, an earthy green, complimented his eyes. Alec could tell he took care of himself. His skin was flawless, not a single blemish showing, and despite wearing multiple layers Alec could tell he was built. He exuded the form of perfection that Alec had always dreamed of as a child. 

Alec sits down, barely listening as the therapist introduced himself. He went on about his credentials, fancy awards for his work in academic journals and his alma mater, an ivy league. His passion for psychology came from watching his own mother succumb to her mental illnesses in his youth, before she decided to get help and lived the rest of her life happy and healthy. “But, of course, this is all a long process,” he says. “I’m sure you understand that.” Alec doesn’t answer, he just stares at the man, “Okay, I’ll be straightforward with you. I’ve read your medical file from Rikers. Just so you know. I won’t keep anything from you. So... how were your first twenty-four hours out of the doghouse?” 

After waiting a moment, Alec shrugs. “Not very eventful,” he says. “I got home at 5:30 and slept for nine hours.” 

“I’m sure your exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally. It’s a big change, to suddenly go back to your old life. But I suppose this isn’t your old life.” Alec doesn’t say anything, looking away. His gaze lingers on a painting above the desk, showing different shades of orange and blue splattered on the canvas. “You were incarcerated when you were just eighteen. But you aren’t eighteen anymore.” 

Images of Alec’s junior prom flash in his mind, Lydia’s toothy smile and his ill-fitted suit. The bright yellow corsage his mother had made him give to her. The picture in his bedroom had gone unchanged for eight years. “No,” he says. “I... I guess...” he starts trying to explain it, but can’t quite get through all the words. 

“What I’m saying, Alexander, is that serving your time when you are eighteen is a tough situation. Your peers have gone on to college, or traveled. Their lives are completely different now, there was room for growth. Immediately moving from high school to federal prison halted that for you. Your belongings are that of the teenager you once were, coming back to this life may be hard because you may want to hold onto that part of yourself because it’s what you remember. The first part of our time together is going to be to try and break into your future, and help you navigate as the twenty-four-year-old Alec.” 

When his mother had said he would be going to therapy, Alec didn’t realize that it would move so fast. Twenty minutes in, and his reality was already being thrown back in his face. He didn’t want to think about his future. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he had a future. 

“But right now, I just want to get to know you. What sort of hobbies do you have? What do you do to pass time?” 

Alec sits there for a minute, thinking. “I don’t have any.” 

“Nothing? You don’t have anything that you can think of? I myself enjoy baking.” 

With a sigh, Alec looks away again, this time down at his feet. “I used to read whenever I got the chance to. In between meals or working. But eventually I gave it up. It... it stopped feeling important.” 

“Reading is one of the most important things we have,” Dr. Garroway says. He gets up, and walks over to his bookshelf. Most of the spines looked like they belonged to textbooks. After a moment, he selects one, and returns to where Alec was sitting. He hands him the book; which Alec takes hesitantly. “It’s a good one,” he says. “About a human ship crash landing on an alien planet. Sci-fi is my favorite genre.” 

“Oh, uh... thank you,” Alec says, placing the book in his lap. 

“That book is going to be our first project,” Dr. Garroway says, sitting back down in his seat across from Alec. “You need something that’s a constant in both of the worlds that you know. You read as a teenager. You read as an inmate. Let it serve as a comfort as you start readjusting.” They spend the rest of the session talking about Alec’s family, although he withholds as much detail as possible. Just because his mother wanted him to go to therapy didn’t mean he was going to like it. 

Isabelle practically drags Alec down the busy New York sidewalk, dodging tourists and business men. It was a higher end part of town, lined with coffee shops that charged twelve dollars for a latte and stores where the employees kept an extra eye on anyone not already dressed in designer clothing. While Isabelle had always been humble, she wasn’t afraid to wear expensive dresses and enjoyed the socialite life. She drags Alec into a men's clothing store with several fit mannequins posed ridiculously in the window. 

He’s expecting the employee on the floor to give him a dirty look, but instead is met with a welcoming smile. Isabelle kisses his cheek, explaining that they were friends since he frequented her gym. She picks out several shirts for Alec, smooth button ups with varying flowery designs in dark colors. “I know you won’t wear anything bright,” she says, rushing him back to the dressing room. 

“I don’t know Isabelle, I don’t think I need new clothes,” he says as she closes the fitting room door. It was larger than he expected, with a potted monstera in the corner and an entire wall covered with a large mirror. There were several candles and incense on the shelves, and a neat rack for discarded clothes. The floor was so shiny that Alec could see the details in his reflection. 

“You can’t just wear the old high schools Mom left in your closet, Alec,” Isabelle says. “You’re my adult big brother. Besides, the sharper you look, the better you’ll feel.” He hears her stilettos clack against the floor as she walks away, presumably to find more clothes for him to try on. 

Sighing, Alec unbuttons his shirt and holds the first top up to his body, staring at himself in the mirror. He swings the garment around his shoulders and slides his arms through. Instead of buttoning it completely, he just holds it closed. It’s a smooth, silk short-sleeve shirt with a neatly pressed collar that hugs his neck. Dark green leaves and trees flow around the creases, over an earthy dark brown. The sleeves fall just above his elbow, showing off a dark, jagged tattoo of a stippled snake he had gotten his third year at Rikers in exchange for ten packs of ramen noodles from the commissary. He hadn’t realized that no one in his family had seen it yet. His parents had sworn off tattoos, saying they were for “thugs.” 

Isabelle’s heels clicking against the floor becomes louder as she approaches, tossing several pairs of pants over the top of the door. “Try on the white ones first,” she says. “They are going to make you look so proper, Alec.” 

After a few minutes of trying on the other shirts, Alec slips on the white pants and one of the plain black shirts, then steps out. Isabelle’s eyes light up, and she looks at her employee friend, who smiles. “We can tailor anything you’re wanting to buy right here at the store, for a small fee,” he says. He looks back at Alec, then back at Isabelle. “We’ll have to adjust how the pants fit at the knee, they’re a little baggy. The waist needs to be tightened just a hair. The shirts are a little long, but a French tuck may be the best solution. It’s not too oversized, we could also cover it up with a blazer.” 

Alec feels invisible as Isabelle and the employee discuss which shirts they would be getting, how they would be fitting everything. He sees her eyeing his tattoo, a smirk on her face. She loved annoying their parents. It takes almost an hour for all the clothes to be fitted, and Alec gets poked a few times with the needle. Isabelle talks the employees ear off about a few older clients she has who insist that they know everything. They discuss the new smoothie bar at the gym, which matcha is their favorite and how they want to learn how to make their own kombucha. Near the end, Alec feels a heavy lump in his throat, but he can’t decipher why or what it means. Was he jealous? Was he annoyed? 

Before he can even process it, Isabelle is dragging him out of the shop and further up the street, four bags between them. She leads him to a café, packed with people in Chanel sunglasses drinking lattes with almond milk and fancy designs in the foam. They sit outside at a creaky iron table, further away from the other patrons. Alec lets Isabelle do the ordering, since she was obviously more familiar with the menu. 

After the waitress leaves, Isabelle’s face softens, and she rests her elbows on the table. “I’ve missed you so much,” she says. “Now that you’re back it feels like my life is complete again.” 

“I missed you too,” Alec says. He felt out of place among the people around them, he was the only one in sweatpants as far as he could see. His hair fell into his face as a slight breeze picked up. 

“I know you missed a lot,” Isabelle continues. “But what matters is that you’re here now. We can pick up right where we left off.” 

Alec bites his lip, searching for an answer. In the last few months before he went away, he was barely home, out with his friends most of the time. Some nights he didn’t come home. He was constantly grounded, but snuck out anyway. His grades dropped to mostly failing, he never went to school. There are weeks of time he doesn’t remember. But he knew Isabelle would want to ignore all that, because she missed her young socialite brother. The fourteen-year-old who would go out and sneak her the good horderves from the adult table at parties and make fun of their mother’s friends at the kids table. 

“So,” Isabelle continues when she doesn’t get a response. “How do you feel? Finally being free? Walking the streets of our city again has to be exhilarating, doesn’t it?” 

“It’s nice,” Alec admits. “I missed the sound of the city. The cars and the people hailing taxis. Police officers blowing whistles as they direct traffic. Small dogs barking from apartment balconies. Little things that you don’t think to appreciate.” Isabelle’s eyebrows narrow, and she frowns. “It was always loud there. Everyone was packed so tight that when they talked it was just a sea of noise. Even in the showers it was never quiet. The only place it was quiet was in isolation.” 

Isabelle stares at her brother for a moment. “You went to isolation?” She asks, her voice quiet, almost a whisper. Before he can answer the waitress comes back with a plate of focaccia and some sort of eggplant dish marinated in vinegar. The plate was adorned with a gold design outlining a naked woman, no doubt worth a fortune. The two siblings eat in silence, watching people walk buy, listening to phone conversations. Alec can barely muster more than one slice of the bread and just a bite of the eggplant. At one point in his life he was used to the high-end food. Olive oil that cost fifty dollars, shipped from Italy. Bread only from the most expensive, organic bakeries. Now it just felt useless to him. He didn’t understand spending so much on something with such little importance. 

They walk back to the apartment, a half-hour trip. Alec was grateful to be able to stretch his legs for so long. He was still convinced that if he closed his eyes long enough, he would open them and be back in his bunk. When they get back to the apartment, Isabelle helps him hang up the new clothes, but he refuses to let her throw away any of the old ones. She hugs him tight before she leaves, mentioning something about a dinner date with some friends from work. 

Max comes in after she leaves, offering Alec some of the doughnuts he had picked up on his way home from school. “Mom told me to make sure you eat before dinner,” he says, sitting on the bed next to Alec. 

“I’m not hungry,” Alec says. “Isabelle took me to lunch.” 

“I don’t understand how you couldn’t be hungry,” Max says. Alec had still not gotten used to how deep his voice was. “I know they feed you like shit in prison. I was expecting you to be gorging on any food you could get.” 

“You don’t know, Max,” Alec snaps. His tone was more haste than he had wanted it to be, but he couldn’t control it. “You don’t know anything about the food. We ate stale bread and rice. Mystery meat, old lettuce. It was for survival. It wasn’t about flavor. You would get a tray, eat, and leave so the next guy could have his turn. That was it, that’s all food is for. Survival. So no, I’m not craving doughnuts. I’m not going to ‘gorge’ myself.” Max frowns and looks away, holding onto the plate with white knuckles. Knowing his parents, Alec suspected that they kept as much from Max as they could. He was a bad influence. Alec sighs, relaxing his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice softer. “I’m just really tired.” 

Max lets Alec go to sleep, despite it only barely being 5 pm. He leaves the doughnut on the desk. But once Alec closes his eyes, he drifts away, sleeping through dinner into the afternoon of the next day, the doughnut going untouched. 

In the following weeks, Alec had gotten used to a sort of routine. He would wake up sometime in the afternoon, typically sleeping more than 12 hours a day. He ate with his family, mostly finished his meals, enough that he noticed his hip bones didn’t jut out like they used to and his sweatpants didn’t slide down as much. The clothes that Isabelle bought him sat untouched at the bottom of his closet. She usually would only come on the weekends, sitting with Alec and Max as they watched the numerous movies that Max had insisted Alec watch. He held conversations with everyone in his family, although nothing ever came up of his time away. It seemed as though they were ignoring it. 

His mother would take an early lunch break and drop Alec off at his therapy appointments. His sessions with Dr. Garroway seemed like a waste. The psychologist would try to get Alec to open up about his time at Rikers, or anything remotely personal, but Alec always managed to change the subject. They discussed sci-fi, as Alec had read three of his books already. By the end of the fourth weekly session, Alec could tell the man was starting to get restless. Given his reputation, he knew that by the fourth session he probably had people talking about their darkest secrets. 

Occasionally, late at night, Alec would wake up in his bed, sweating and shivering. The feeling of foreign hands grazing his skin, the unbearable flat mattress he slept on. The sound of a gunshot. At those times he found himself smoking on the balcony, watching the quiet city below. But in New York, it was never completely silent. That way, he never felt alone. 

It’s a Sunday morning, around 4:30 am, when Alec hears the door open to the balcony. His mother steps out. Without her makeup, Alec could make out the recently developed crow's feet around her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a short pony tail, a few strands drooping out of the front onto her forehead. She was dressed in a sleek black zip up shirt with matching leggings and slightly worn sneakers that Alec had never seen before. “Good morning,” she says, her voice scratchy from just waking up. 

“Morning,” Alec responds. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the metal of the railing, watching as the flickering red of the butt dims in the purple early morning sky. “Did I wake you?” 

“Oh, no,” Maryse says. She hoists her foot up onto the railing, leaning over into a stretch. “Every Sunday morning, I have a yoga class I get to, run by one of Isabelle’s friends. When the weather is bearable, I jog there. It eases the stress.” Alec doesn’t respond, watching as she stretched her other leg. “But since you’re up, you’re coming with me.” 

Alec stares at her for a moment, waiting for her to say she was kidding. “I, uh... No. I’m not in any shape to be going on a jog this early, or-” 

“We can walk if you need to. It will be good for you, Alec. You used to run for miles. I know you enjoyed it. Perhaps it’s time for you to pick up your old habits.” Before Alec can protest again, Maryse orders him to get changed. While in his room, he digs out his old pair of sneakers, still worn from his early morning jogs as a teenager. He chooses his same pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt with the bright red logo of his high school mascot. 

As they begin the jog, Alec finds himself getting fatigued quicker than he remembers. The sweat builds up on his forehead almost immediately, but he ignores it, maintaining his pace. At Rikers he had taken up to jogging in the yard during his outside time for the first four years. He even gained a few friends doing it, but when a couple other inmates got in a fight that resulted in a fatal wound outside, running was prohibited. 

Maryse keeps a close eye on him, slowing down her usual pace. It was surprising to her considering their height difference, her eldest son had been six inches taller than her since he was just fifteen. As they reach a crosswalk, Maryse slows to a stop and watches as Alec gasps for breath, leaning against the traffic light. She doesn’t say anything to him, just watches with the same hooded stare she always had when she came to visitation. Alec could never tell if it was disappointment, or regret. 

Eventually, they make it the park, with the sun barely up above the horizon. Alec spots a small group of other people in workout clothes, organizing around one person. They all wave at Maryse, and as they approach Alec realizes that they are entering one of the socialite, upper-class situations he grew up with. And now, he felt more out of place as ever. 

He stands quietly while his mother introduces him to her friends, faking a smile and shaking hands. Some of the faces look familiar, but none as much as the tall blonde man who walks up last. “Alec, you remember Andrew Underhill, don’t you?” Maryse says. 

Alec feels his shoulders tensing, a chill running down his spine. He knew Andrew better than his mother was led to believe. He had frequented the same parties that Alec was forced to go to growing up. Now, his hair was shorter tamer. Like his mother, he had aged the past six years, shown in the wrinkles around his chapped lips as he smiled. “Of course,” he says, holding out his hand. “Glad to see you back.” 

Hesitantly, Alec shakes his hand. It’s weak, unsure. He can see the tension in the other man’s body too, and he knows they’re thinking the same thing. Remembering the same glances over the crowd. Checking for locks on bathroom doors. As Alec looks at the other man, he feels the same as he did when he was sixteen at his father’s birthday party. He had just had a growth spurt, his limbs gangly from his burst in height. Whatever pill he had snuck before the event calmed his nerves. _Don’t you get lonely hiding from everyone like this?_

Before Alec can fully process it, he’s next to his mother in the grass, following the instructor’s words as best he can. He had never done yoga before, so he anxiously watches everyone and follows what they do. Luckily, Andrew had chosen a spot in the front. If he was behind Alec, he would have felt watched the entire time. 

As soon as the session is over, Alec looks at his mother, eyes wide. Despite his age, Maryse could still tell when her son was distressed. She bids a quick goodbye to her friends, and walks with Alec back to their apartment. On the way there, she talks to him about small things. How the coffee shop she used to frequent closed. The new trees they planted at the park. Which coffee she preferred, imported from France. But Alec spaces out, barely able to focus on keeping his legs moving. Andrew Underhill wasn’t his only secret, and he wasn’t sure if he could keep above water for much longer. 

“Tell me, Alec, have you always been so guarded?” Dr. Garroway asks. He was leaning against his desk, sipping on black coffee, still steaming from the pot. “As much as I love discussing your theories on these sci-fi books, I am getting paid to provide you counseling. I know that you’re an iceberg- everyone is- but we haven’t even grazed the top.” Alec licks his top teeth, clenching his jaw. He looks away, feeling the gaze of the other man on him. “Let’s move slow. Tell me what happened in November, three years ago. It’s in your file.” 

Alec rolls his head around to his other shoulder. He knew squirming wouldn’t get him out of the session, he had been trying that for over a month. It was moments like this when he felt the most childish. He knew he was twenty-four, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Dr. Garroway had said in the first session. His life in the outside world had ended when he was a teenager, and it was easy to still feel like one. 

“I... I don’t want to talk about it,” Alec says, his voice quiet. Dr. Garroway raises his eyebrows. “Look, it’s hard, and-” 

“I know it’s hard, Alec. Facing ourselves is one of the scariest, most difficult parts of being human.” 

“I understand. But...” Alec takes a deep breath, feeling a lump building his throat. Goosebumps tingle on his skin, and he closes his eyes. He knew when the panic came, it was so easy for him to succumb to it. It had happened numerous times in his first few months in containment, but he had learned to control it. He counted his breaths until he felt his pulse relax. “Afterwards... the medical unit said I was a risk. The solution was to put me in solitary for three weeks. A few days in I wanted out, but they wouldn’t let me. I... I yelled until I lost my voice. I banged on the door so much that my hands had bruises on them for weeks after. They only cleared me to be let out because I refused food for a week. Doesn’t that sound like rock bottom to you?” 

Dr. Garroway stares at Alec for a moment, his jaw dropped. He takes a breath and composes himself, softening his face. “We have to hit rock bottom to be able to pull ourselves back up.” 

“But it wasn’t rock bottom. Sitting in a small, dark room with no one talking to you. Starving. Crying. It was hell. But it still wasn’t my rock bottom,” Alec admits. He straightens his posture and raises his head, making eye contact with the doctor. It was a technique he had learned from his mother. Whenever you were feeling weak, try to appear bigger than you felt. “Do you know what it’s like to be left alone with yourself?” 

“You still have moments where you feel that way,” Dr. Garroway says. He walks over to the chair and sits across from Alec, coffee forgotten. Alec doesn’t answer, he just stares at the man. He had been told before that one of the traits he inherited from his mother was her glare. “I’m going to write you a prescription. A small dosage of a mood stabilizer, to start. I think it may help balance out your emotions.” 

“But, I’m on parole. I can’t do drugs.” 

“I’m sure your parole officer will approve,” Dr. Garroway says. “Rehabilitation is all about re-entering society as a functioning adult. Controlling your mental health is part of that.” 

Alec sighs. The only drug he had allowed himself since getting arrested was nicotine. Even in his most painful states, he never once took even one Advil. There was always a fear that he would find himself spiraling again. But as he watched his doctor filling out the paperwork, he couldn’t help but feel that need to be high coming back into his mind. 

The next day, after a meeting with his parole officer, Alec walks into the waiting area to find Max, instead of his mother or father. His younger brother looks scared, sitting among other ex-cons and family members with long faces. He stands right up as Alec approaches, explaining that something came up at the office for their father and he was now in charge of taking Alec home. 

“We need to stop at the CVS,” Alec says. “I have to pick up a prescription. From the therapist.” 

“For what?” Max asks, but as they walk outside onto the busy sidewalk, he turns in the direction of the pharmacy. 

Living with Max again made Alec realize how guarded his younger brother had been. He knew that Alec was in prison, he had visited a few times, but it was quick. The more he thought about it, he wondered what Max knew about him, if he knew anything at all. Max was only twelve when Alec was put away. The more he thought about, Alec hadn’t realized how young Max was when everything started. “Something to help me,” Alec responds, not wanting to go into detail. 

“Anti-depressants?” 

Alec stops walking, watching as Max takes a few steps in front of him before realizing he was leaving his brother behind. He turns around, a confused look on his face. “No.” He starts walking again, more rushed. Max walks by his side, clearly oblivious to how much Alec did not want to talk about it. 

“Oh, well, that’s what I figured, since you sleep so much,” Max says. Alec doesn’t answer, and within a couple minutes they make it to the CVS. As Alec waits in line, Max walks around, browsing. They only went to places like this to pick up medicine, everything else in the house was from expensive organic grocery stores. 

Once Alec has the prescription, safely tucked into his jacket pocket, he finds Max picking up a few snack items. He spots the stacks of ramen noodles on the shelf, eyeing them. At Rikers, he would buy them from the commissary when he couldn’t take the bland corn and bread of the cafeteria anymore. Slowly, Alec reaches forward, and takes one off the shelf. 

“Mom never buys this stuff,” Max says. “She says that my nutrition is too important for junk food. She says that vegetables are better for the mind, and if I want to keep up my good grades, I can’t eat junk.” 

“She’s right,” Alec says. He remembered how strict their mother had been about grades. The first couple years of high school he was top of the class. Before things changed. 

“I never get to have fun,” Max says as they head to the check out. “All I get to do is go from school and home. I have to show her that I studied when I get home. She wouldn’t even let me go out for lacrosse last year because of my grades. I don’t understand why she wants me to be so perfect.” 

Alec bites his lip, keeping silent as Max handed the clerk their father’s credit card. He felt partially the reason why their mother was so strict with Max. He wasn’t exactly a stellar role model as an older brother. “It’s better for you this way,” he says, as they walk out of the building back to the bustling sidewalk. 

_“I knew there was something about you that I liked,” the boy across from Alec says, smiling a big, toothy smile as he held up the wad of money Alec had handed him. He had stolen it from his father’s secret stash, the one he left for the kids to use when both him and Maryse were late at work. Jace stands up from their spot in park, under a dim street light. The sun had just gone down, and the families were gone._

_Jace was broad-shouldered, his frame filled out by the lean muscle he kept naturally. He was the type of person who could eat fast food every day, and still maintain a fit frame. His hair was slick, tucked back behind his ears as always, a stark blonde that glimmered in the moonlight. His eyes were always catching Alec’s gaze, blue as the lake Alec visited every summer as a child. Jace’s right eye featured just a hint of brown, a feature that made him unique. Alec watched as he walked back, hands tucked under his worn denim jacket._

_He sits back down, knees bumping with the boy to Alec’s right. Simon, scrawny, swallowed by the mangled curly hair that sat on his head. In class he often let it fall into his face, hiding him from the buff sports players who bullied him and the girls who snickered behind his back. His dark framed classes were too big for his face, but Alec thought it was a charming quality._

_“Are you sure we shouldn’t go somewhere else?” Simon asks, his voice quiet. While the park was less crowded, there was no place where you could be completely alone in New York. “What if someone gets suspicious.”_

_“There’s other things to worry about,” Jace says. “Besides, in a few minutes you won’t be worried about who’s around.” He smirks, pulling out a bag from his pocket. It wasn’t the first time the boys had spent a night like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be their last. With wide eyes, Jace licks his finger, dipping it into the powder. He brings it up to his mouth, rubbing it on his gums. After passing the bag to Simon, he lays down in the wet grass, freshly watered._

_Simon closes his eyes. He always did, and Alec wondered if it was his way of hiding from the world. Or maybe, he was ashamed. None of them acted like it, but he figured it was there. Somewhere. Deep down. Alec waits his turn, feeling the corner of his mouth twitching as the bag came his way. His hands were shaking, fingers tingling. Simon leans into himself, pulling his knees in close to himself, shrinking. Alec bites his lip, then licks his finger before plunging it into the small bag._

_The powder feels familiar, and makes his heart beat faster and faster. He quickly scoops up some of it and then opens his mouth, smearing it on his top gum. He hated how much he needed something to make him forget himself. He hated that he needed to escape, but couldn’t help himself. The streetlights turn into floating orbs of light, dancing in the dark sky. Alec smiles, the corners of his mouth working so hard his face starts to hurt._

_For a few minutes, the three boys sit in total bliss, until they hear a deep voice yelling at them from across the park. A flashlight nears, no doubt a police officer hoping to bust the teenagers. Before he realizes it’s happening, Alec’s running, following Jace and Simon down the street. Behind them, the man yells, but they’re too fast. Alec feel like he was running on air, floating. And he_ _knew_ _the others felt the same._

_As they disappear down the street, laughing, Alec felt like he could do anything._


	2. Accurate Hit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for sexual themes. nothing too graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading.

Alec tried to ignore the growing pain in his shoulders. He felt the shape of the grass imprinting on his palms. The yoga instructor was talking about reuniting with the earth, or the moon, or something else that Alec didn’t care enough to understand. Under the advice of his therapist, Alec had regularly started attending weekly yoga with his mother. He needed to “rebuild” their relationship. 

It had only been three weeks in a row, and he tried his best to intentionally avoid Andrew. The other man also kept his distance, but whenever they made eye contact Alec feared he would walk over and try to talk to him. All it did was make Alec feel more distant from his mother. Despite his minimal attempts at keeping up with her, he knew that if he didn’t find a way to come clean about everything their relationship would never evolve from small talk. 

They walked down the sidewalk after the session in silence. As they stopped at a light, Alec looked over at a store window, catching his reflection. He forced himself to take all the vitamins Isabelle had bought for him, but he didn’t see much of a difference. Since getting home, the dark circles under his eyes had gotten better, but he figured it was from sleeping so much. 

The light turns green, and they start walking with the crowd. Maryse walked slightly ahead, her hair blowing in the light breeze. It was only just after seven a.m. Alec liked people watching, it was one of the reasons he loved living in New York. Confined to the walls of the prison, everyone started looking the same. He had kept a low profile, mostly. Most of the gangs ignored him, he didn’t come in as a thug. He was a baby-faced  eighteen-year-old who “ended up in the wrong crowd,” or so his father said to their friends. 

As they approach the apartment building, Maryse stops and turns around. “This evening your father and I are attending dinner at that French place you liked as a child. It’s for a  colleague's promotion, and she invited the whole family. And, well, you are part of the family. I’m sure everyone would love to see you.” 

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Alec says, looking down at his feet. The same old Converse he wore when he walked out of Rikers two months before. “It just seems like, I don’t know...” 

“But you love that restaurant, honey,” Maryse says, and Alec feels himself freeze. She hadn’t called him anything but his name since he was in middle school. It felt artificial, like his mother was pretending he was someone he wasn’t. 

“I just don’t think it’s really my thing anymore,” Alec says. He sees the distance in his mother’s expression. He could never truly read her expression, there was always a barrier. 

“Well, if you change your mind, the invitation is open,” Maryse says, and they walk to the elevator together. One of their neighbors is standing in the small space as well, an older woman Alec remembered from the floor above them. His parents often socialized with her and her husband, who worked for a firm that represented the business the Lightwood’s worked for. 

When she sees Alec, her eyes widen, and she looks away. Maryse greets her anyway, as she normally would, and the woman smiles, ignoring Alec. At their floor, Alec steps out, ignoring the woman, but his mother stays behind to keep chatting. 

Their voices fall to a whisper, but Alec can still hear the question the woman asks his mother. “Is it safe to have him back here?” 

Maryse  purses her lips, taking a breath. “Of course, I...” she trails off, something Alec had never seen her do. She always knew what to say, and how she was going to say it. “He is my son,” she says, her tone shifted. “He lives at home, where he is always welcome. And it is none of your business if he lives here.” With a huff, she pushes past Alec and storms down the hallway, back to the apartment. 

“I don’t understand how they can just pretend that nothing happened,” Alec says, his voice wavering. He sips the black coffee that he had gotten in the waiting room before his session, feeling the light burn on his throat. “I was gone for six years, and they act like I’ve just always been around. I’ve done the math. That’s twenty-five percent of my life just gone from me, and they don’t care.” 

“Not mentioning it doesn’t mean they don’t care,” Dr.  Garroway says. “From what you’ve told me about your family, they don’t exactly seem to be the most open. Were they open with you before?” 

“No,” Alec responds. “But before I was just their teenage son. As long as I got decent grades and showed up to dinner every  night, they didn’t notice a thing. I was fifteen the first time I got high. I smoked cigarettes and pot out my window, and no one noticed.” 

“People go years hiding things, Alec,” the therapist says. “It’s easier to hide things from the public than it seems. I believe you when you say your parents didn’t pay attention to you, or notice that things were going wrong. But you didn’t make it easy. As you’ve said before, you hid everything.”

“But I got it from them. They should have noticed,” Alec says. “My parents hide stuff from us all the time. I didn’t know my mother was a smoker until over two months ago.” He takes a deep breath. “You know, my favorite time of the day is the middle. I wake up at noon, and no one is home, and I can just be alone. I don’t have to pretend to be in a good mood for Max. I don’t have to pretend to listen to what my father says at dinner. I can just lay in my bed, and be by myself, and be in my head. I can’t be in my head with my family around.” 

“Why?” Dr.  Garroway asks, leaning forward in his seat. He narrows his eyebrows, his tone becoming more serious. “Because it’s all too loud? What’s in your head that your family can’t see?” Alec doesn’t answer, instead downing the rest of his coffee. He feels it burn down his throat, but he doesn’t care. “Have the mood stabilizers been helping?” 

“No,” Alec says, his voice now hoarse. “There isn’t any way that taking one dosage of Lamictal a day is going to get rid of the six years of containment.” He feels his demeanor change as he straightens his shoulders and leans back in his chair. “But I know one that might,” he mutters, almost whispering. 

Dr.  Garroway clenches his jaw before getting up from his chair. He walks around it, then faces Alec again, this time with a softer expression. “You’ve been thinking of using again,” he says. 

“No, I haven’t...” Alec trails off, then sighs and leans forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to use again. But I’m on parole, and I get tested every time I go. And I would rather be at home wallowing in my bed than back in my bunk. So, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know you said you like being home alone,” the therapist says. “But, being lost in your head for that long isn’t going to do you any favors. You need something to look forward to. A long-term goal that isn’t oriented around your past. You need something new.” 

Dinner that night was one of his mother’s crockpot stews, made from all organic vegetables and farm-raised beef. The meat was soft, falling apart with just the slightest push of Alec’s fork. He managed to eat most of his plate, only ignoring the large chunks of potatoes. When he spent the day by himself, he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything. The only food he ever consumed was in the company of someone else. Most of the time, it was so they didn’t suspect anything of him. 

After dinner, Alec helped Max with the dishes, listening to him go on about his math class. There still was no word from the colleges he had applied to, and Alec was happy, in a way. He didn’t want to be the eldest son who was still living with his parents while his teenage younger brother left the house. Much less, watching his little brother live the life his parents had wanted for him. 

As soon as Max retired to his room to do homework, Alec ventured to his parent’s room. He knocks, and enters after hearing his father’s voice. “Alexander,” Robert says. He was still dressed for work, except his dress shirt was untucked. “I wasn’t expecting you, but I’m glad you’re here. I needed to talk to you anyway. Sit,” he motions to a recliner next to their dresser, and Alec sits. Every time he and his father  talked; Alec felt like he was a child. 

“Your therapist called this afternoon,” Robert says. “Before you go to bed  tonight, I’m going to need you to hand over your prescription.” 

Alec’s jaw drops. “But I-”

“He just recommended it to avoid any risks,” Robert interrupts. “Every morning your mother or I will leave a pill in the kitchen for you with a glass of water. No objections.” Alec bites his lip, feeling anger building up in his chest. He just wanted to be trusted again.

“I’m an adult. This is ridiculous,” Alec counters, raising his voice slightly. 

“You’re hardly an adult,” Robert spats. There he was, the person Alec knew his father to be. No sympathy. He rarely showed affection for his children, unless they had done something to deserve it. And Alec knew there wasn’t anything he could do at this point to earn even so much as a reassuring smile from the man. “You have an addiction, Alexander. I know you’re trying. I do. But until Dr.  Garroway thinks you’re ready, this is how it’s going to be.”

Maryse walks out of the bathroom, changed into her pajamas. Alec could tell she had been listening to the conversation from the distant look in her eyes. “It’s rare that you come to talk to us,” she says, and Alec watches as she glides across the room, sitting on the bed next to her husband. “Did you need something?” 

Alec looks between the two of them. “Dr.  Garroway wants me to have a  long-term goal,” he says, putting on the uptight, stern voice he always had with his parents. He had learned to do it when he was nine, and was crying because he and Isabelle got into a fight over a toy. Robert had told him that Lightwood men didn’t cry, and that if he wanted something, he would have to put his foot down and ask for it. “We talked about it, and- I don’t want to be living like this forever- I feel like I ask too much of you,” he was rambling. “I... I want to sign up for a GED program.” 

In his days at home, Alec had watched six full seasons of T.V, read eight books his therapist lent him, and listened to the music Isabelle insisted he heard over and over. For the first time, mostly out of spite from the conversation he had with his father the night before, he looks into the medicine cabinet. Unsurprisingly, it was empty aside from a box of  band-aids . He also peaks into the silverware drawer, and notices all the sharp knives are also missing. 

Sighing, Alec opens the fridge, his eyes falling on the several  containers of leftovers. He picks up one and opens it. Meatballs from the night before. They smell good, nearly compelling him to stick them in the microwave but he decides against it. The longer he stared at the food, the more turned off by it he felt. 

Since he had good behavior serving his time and wasn’t seen as a threat, Alec had the  luxery of serving his parole without an ankle monitor. As long as he didn’t leave the state of New York, he was free to go anywhere he wanted to. 

Despite feeling his stomach growling, Alec closes the fridge and walks to his bedroom. It would still be two hours before Max got home. He changes into the clothes he wore when he accompanied his mother to their yoga session once a week, and heads out the door. For a few minutes on the sidewalk below the apartment, he stretches his legs the way he always did when he was a teenager. 

Alec starts at a slow jog, feeling his muscles getting warm. He swerves around the crowd, trying his best not to disturb anyone in his way. After a few blocks, he feels his breathing start to become heavier, and his chest starts to burn. It only encourages him to go faster, and he picks up his speed until he’s fully running. As he passes a familiar flower shop, he knows he’s reached the first mile. When he was younger, he created markers that got him to his usual  five-mile marker. At his best, he ran ten miles on the weekend mornings. 

By the time he approaches another marker, an elementary school, he’s gasping for air. He sprints the last block, up to the stop sign. With a shaky hand, he grabs onto the pole of the sign before feeling his legs start to shake. He collapses onto the bench next to it, holding onto his chest. His face is red, dripping sweat onto his t-shirt. The collar was drenched. 

A few feet away, on the playground, a few of the children stare at him, pointing and laughing. He looks away, leaning forward and focusing on the concrete. As his vision comes back into focus, and his breathing returns to normal, he stands up again. It wasn’t the entire length, but he had run three miles. 

For a moment, Alec looks around, but the children are gone. As he stands there, alone, he realizes how lightheaded he felt. Giddy, almost. He laughs to himself, and wipes the sweat off his brow before turning around to head back to the apartment. 

Isabelle had garnered a multitude of friends throughout her time in college. So many, that no matter how many times she talked about them, Alec could never keep up. But when he told her he would be starting his GED program after the  weekend; she had insisted that he come with her to a salon she frequented to get his hair cut. 

At Riker’s he had gotten his hair cut enough that it never grew past his shoulders, but since getting out he hadn’t bothered to do anything with it. It wasn’t considerably long, the longest strands only reaching the top of his shoulders. But the layers were messy, uneven. His bangs often fell into his face, although he didn’t mind hiding it. He knew how tired he looked. 

The salon is fairly high-end, with bright vanities lining the walls. Fake flowers and paintings lined the clean, white interior. The furniture was modern, boxy and unreasonable. A few staff members recognized Isabelle and cheered when she walked in. A man with straight, long hair slicked back behind his ears and a face tattoo next to his right eye walks up to them. He’s dressed in a  half-undone silk shirt with tight pants. “Isabelle,” he says, then kisses Alec’s sister on the cheek. “When I heard you had scheduled an appointment this week, I fought tooth and nail to make sure I was the one handling this beautiful mane.” He brings his hands to Isabelle’s hair, long and curled. 

She laughs, not bothering to pull away from the man’s touch. “Actually, the appointment is for my older brother,” she motions to Alec, who forces himself to smile. 

“Oh,” the hairdresser says. He  lets Isabelle’s hair go. “Well, then let’s start at the sinks.” The Lightwood siblings follow him past the other clients to a section lined shelves of hair products that Alec had never heard before. Alec lays down in one of the chairs and hears the water turned on behind him. As he feels hands spreading shampoo around his scalp, the employee picks up the conversation again. “So, how are things going for you and-” 

“I don’t even want to hear his name,  Meliorn .” Isabelle says. “I kind of knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it  _ really  _ didn’t work out.” 

“You did argue a lot,”  Meliorn says. “At  pilates ... at Kaylie’s birthday party... at  _ my  _ birthday party...” 

“Love finds a way,” Isabelle says. “At least, I thought it did.” Alec feels  Meliorn move onto conditioner, and the smell of roses and cherry blossoms nearly overwhelms him. “But it doesn’t matter now. He’s out of my life.” 

Finished with the wash,  Meliorn guides Alec up and to one of the stations, holding his hair in a towel on the way there. “So, what kind of cut are we looking for?” 

Before Alec can even think of anything to say, Isabelle speaks up. “Keep it shaggy and layered on the top,” she says. “But definitely cut the bottom. And his sideburns. Not too short, but not this long at all. It doesn’t suit him.” 

Meliorn scoffs, then catches Alec’s eyes in the mirror. “Is this what you want?” He asks. Hesitantly, Alec nods, and  Meliorn begins cutting. The conversation picks back up. “Those kind of off and on relationships are bad for you. Both of you,” he says. 

“Well, you know how it is. It’s hard to let someone you’ve known for so long go.” 

“Who did the final dumping? You, or him?” 

“I did,” Isabelle says. “It was kind of ugly, but I had to let him go. Besides, I needed to be here for my big brother.” She smiles at Alec in their reflection. 

“It’s nice to see such a great bond between you two,”  Meliorn says. “Readjusting to regular life after being in captivity can be so hard. You’re lucky to have a sister like Isabelle.” 

After the cut, Isabelle took Alec out for dinner to another organic, farm-raised café. She seemed to know of a lot of them. His head felt lighter, and without his long hair, he could see more out of his peripheral vision. He caught glimpses of more pedestrians walking by, or taxis dragging through the bumper-to-bumper traffic. 

Isabelle was talking about something, her lips were moving, but Alec couldn’t focus on anything. He sits, watching the breeze blow her long, shiny hair out of her face before he interrupts. “Why did  Meliorn know about me?” He asks.

His sister stops for a second, and stares at him for a moment. “Because I told him,” she says, sipping her drink. 

“Why does the hairdresser need to know?” 

“He’s my hairdresser  _ now,”  _ Isabelle responds. She softly sighs. “We were in a brief relationship before. I don’t just go around telling anyone, Alec.  But it affects me too. I needed someone to talk to.” 

“It’s my business, Isabelle. You don’t have to right to go around talking about it to just anyone because you feel like it.” 

“You don’t understand,” Isabelle retaliates, her voice lowering to a harsh whisper. “You’ve been through a lot. I know that, Alec. And as your sister, I support you and I love you. But watching you suffer, when I can’t do anything about it because you’re behind bars, was the worst thing to ever happen to me.” Alec closes his eyes and starts counting his breaths. “ Every time the news would talk about some inmate getting shot at Rikers, I would sit there and wonder if your picture would come up on the screen. They did a story, two years ago, on a gang fight happening, and five people were killed. And I thought, no, that isn’t my brother. He isn’t that kind of criminal. But when it comes down to it, Alec, I don’t really know. You keep so many things secret it’s hard to really know.” 

“Isabelle, I-” 

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. Mom and Dad, I understand. Or Max. But keeping stuff from  _ me,  _ all these years? How dare you get mad at me for consoling in someone I cared for. I know there’s a lot you haven’t told me. And... until you’re ready to be honest with me, you don’t get a say in who I confide in.” She was on the brink of tears by the time she finished, and Alec didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to apologize, because he wasn’t sorry. Isabelle didn’t need to know about all of the bad things he had done. But, looking back, he had wished he said something that day. 

_ Early on into their relationship Alec had decided that he would do anything Jace asked him to. Steal money from his mother’s purse for weed. Stay up all night with him playing a video game. Ditch their last four classes so they could mess around at the park. It didn’t matter what it was, Alec would do it if it meant Jace was happy. _

_ One night, just as Alec was finishing up his English homework, he got a text from Jace saying he was outside the building. The doormen never let him wait in the lobby. Jace was different from the  _ _ tenants _ _ of the high-end apartment building the Lightwoods lived in. He had gotten into the school on scholarship, and was the only student whose parents weren’t some sort of executive or CEO. His mother died when he was young, and his father made a living working two jobs just to keep the bills paid. He dressed in thrifted clothes, but always was keeping up with all the trends. The Lightwood’s were well off, enough that they could afford the tuition and the nice apartment. But they weren’t filthy rich, like most of the student body. The other students watched Jace like a circus animal, but Alec just saw him as his friend. His best friend, who he didn’t treat any different. It was why they got along so well.  _

_ Alec’s parents went to bed an hour before. He knew Isabelle was still awake, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything if he left so late. It was a Friday, after all. He sneaks downstairs, immediately overwhelmed by the cold air. “How long have you been waiting out here? It’s freezing.”  _

_ “I bundled up,” Jace says, and he starts walking down the street. Alec follows. “Besides, you’ll forget all about it when we get to our destination.”  _

_ “And where exactly is our... destination?”  _

_ “An old girlfriend of my Dads,” Jace says. “Well, not her place. She just gave me the address.”  _

_ “For what, Jace?”  _

_ They approach the subway entrance. At the top of the stairs, Jace stops, and turns to smile at Alec. “A good trip.”  _

_ The purple lights in the apartment bounced off of Jace’s light hair. Alec watched as Jace laughed,  _ _ reveling _ _ in how the cool lighting only made the shiny blue of his eyes stand out more. He smiled, taking a drink of his beer, and Alec realized his tongue was getting dry from having his mouth open for too long. Sober, Alec chalked off the feeling in his chest whenever Jace smiled at him as nothing. Regular anxiety. Intimidation.  _

_ He feels Jace’s hand brush against his as he slips something onto Alec’s palm. With a smirk, he brings up a small tab to his tongue, placing it on. Alec does the same, although his movements are much more subtle. Jace laughs, sticking out his tongue and making a face, his eyes wide. Just as he leans back against the wall, Alec’s mind finally clicks. He just thought he liked Jace much more than Jace liked him. But the more he thought about it, he liked Jace too much.  _

_ Within a couple minutes, Alec felt himself slipping away. Before his eyes, the carpet started fading in and out, moving like static. The people around him morphed into bouncing colorful orbs, ricocheting off the walls. Jace started laughing and grabbed Alec’s forearm. The touch felt like Alec could feel the other boy, in his mind, as if they were becoming one person. Everything in the room started becoming cartoonish. _

_ “Do you see the horses?” Jace asks, his voice sounding as if he was in the other room. “Or the fairies?” Alec shakes his head, and Jace laughs again, this time burying his face in Alec’s shoulder. For a few minutes they sit there, wallowing in their own worlds, until he feels Jace pull away.  _

_ It’s hard for Alec to fully see for a moment, but somewhere among the swirling colors and waving floors he sees Jace and someone else on the floor. Long hair and a short dress. Jace’s hand on the back of her head. Shaking, Alec brings his hands up to his temple and squeezes his head, trying to focus. Jace was making out with a girl, on the floor next to him. They were laughing and smiling, and before he realized he was moving, Alec was out of the room.  _

_ He stumbles around in the next room, ignoring the strangers watching him, amused. Someone reaches out to him, but he turns down the hallway. It was never ending, just one long space that led into darkness. He keeps walking, starting to panic, he would never find the end of the hallway. The darkness closes in on him, and Alec closes his eyes. There's a loud bang _ _ , and suddenly he’s in a bathroom. It’s messy. There are shoes and coats in the bathtub. There’s vomit in the toilet. Taking deep breaths, Alec grabs onto the sink and pulls himself up. In the mirror, he sees himself, pale, sweating. His eyes are huge, black orbs. As he blinks, he watches the image of himself become wavy, shifting. Now, in front of him stood his father, laughing  _ _ maniacally _ _. The laughing rang in Alec’s ears, and he cries out, covering them.  _

_ “What is wrong with you?” His father says. He shifts, his teeth become sharp and he smiles, the line of his lips stretching all the way to his ears. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood, what have you become? It’s pathetic. You disappoint me. You disappoint your mother. I wish you weren’t my son.” Alec shakes his head, trying to make his father disappear, but it doesn’t work. “If you never came home, I would be happy. If you never existed, I would be happy. You’re an  _ _ embarrassment _ _ of a son.”  _

_ As Alec mutters to himself for it to stop, he watches as the reflection of his father melts in front of him. It’s scary, and Alec closes his eyes for a minute before opening them again. In front of him now, is Andrew Underhill. A friend and colleague of his parents. Successful, basically their boss. He’s naked in front of Alec in the mirror. “Are you okay, Alexander? You don’t look so good.” Alec shakes his head, feeling more vulnerable. He crosses his arms, covering himself. But before he can calm down, Underhill smiles, and his eyes become dilated, like Alec’s. “I miss you,” he says, but the tone of his voice changes. It’s lower, darker. “You are such a liar,” he says. “You  _ _ deceive _ _ everyone. Your parents, your friends... Isabelle.” As Alec watches the other man in his reflection, he realizes he’s hearing his own voice. “You pretend to be someone you’re not. In reality, you’re just a whore, who needs to be high to function like a normal person. It’s sad. You’re pathetic. If you disappeared, who would miss you?”  _

_ Unable to take it anymore, Alec backs up, and collapses on the floor. He covers his ears and closes his eyes, but it’s not enough to drown out the voices. In his mind, he sees images of his friends and family in a wavy black and white, all saying the same thing in unison. “We wish you were gone.”  _

_ At some point in the early morning, Alec wakes up, lying on the grimy bathroom floor. He forces himself to get up, fighting the pounding in his head. Slowly, he makes his way out of the bathroom, and walks down the hallway.  _ _ There are _ _ other people around, passed out, but he doesn’t see Jace in any of the rooms. Although his mind is hazy, he makes it out of the apartment and finds a subway entrance. The platform is nearly empty, and he sits alone on his way back to his stop.  _

_ By the time he gets upstairs, it’s nearly seven in the morning, and he knew he was cutting it too close. He sneaks in through the front door just in time to rush into his room and change into his athletic-wear. In the kitchen, he hears the espresso machine, no doubt his father. Ignoring the pounding in his head and how weak his body feels, Alec ventures back out into the kitchen.  _

_ “Good morning,” Robert says, and as Alec stares at him, he expects his expression to change, or morph into something else, but he’s normal. He’s real. “How far do you think you’ll get today?”  _

_ Alec reaches up into the cabinet and pulls out his pre-workout powder. He starts mixing it with a cup of water. “I’m thinking I’ll get up to that antique store in Park Avenue. There and back would be the  _ _ ten-mile _ _ mark.” _

_ Robert reaches his hand up, resting it on Alec’s shoulder. “Good job, son.”  _

“This is ridiculous,” Alec says. The car came to a stop on the side of the community college parking lot. “I can take the subway here just fine. I still have Isabelle’s card.” They hadn’t spoken since their argument after his haircut.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t late to your first day,” Maryse says. “I just wanted to see you off on your first day of school. It reminds me of when you were younger.” 

Alec shrugs, then checks the time. “I’ll take the train home,” he says. “I should be back before nine.” Maryse bids him goodbye, and watches as her eldest son gets out of the car and heads toward the entrance. It brought her back to bringing him to his first day of school nearly twenty years before. She had missed out simple her children were when they  _ were  _ children. Now, she could only stand by and watch from the outside as they navigated their lives. 

The class is small, only about twelve people. Alec sits in the front, one of the last seats. It’s quiet enough that he can hear someone behind him tapping their pencil on the desk. As he looks around, he notices he’s the youngest person in the room. He sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His body ached from running during the day, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. As the clock reaches the top of the hour, the room gets quiet. 

For a minute, the teacher doesn’t come, and he hears a couple people whispering behind him. A man bursts through the door, letting it bang against the wall and swing back into him. He mutters something, before pulling a leather satchel from his shoulder and placing it on the counter. “Good... evening,” he says. “Almost, it’s...” he trails off, spinning around in a circle before he sees the clock behind him. “About evening. Welcome to Kingsborough.” He stills, looking out to the small class. From what Alec had researched online, he was expecting an unhappy teacher who was being forced to teach the GED class, who didn’t want to be there, but the teacher in front of the class looked well put-together. He was shorter than Alec, but had broad-shoulders that filled out his dark purple blazer. His hair was choppy and layered, with the dark strands styled straight up. The light flickered above him, highlighting his tan complexion. “You can call me Dr. Bane. The doctor part is important to me, as I do hold a doctorate. I currently have two, actually. One in education, and one in history, both from Brown  University . I do bounce between here and teaching at NYU, although I must admit this program is one of my favorites to teach.” 

He starts pacing, his shiny black shoes tapping on the floor. At first glance, Dr. Bane didn’t appear to be much older than Alec, certainly younger than a few of the students. Alec zones out as Dr. Bane discusses the  subjects they would be covering for the exam in the next twelve weeks. He just wanted to take his test and leave. When he got arrested, he was only a few weeks from graduation, so he wasn’t worried about the material. “What I love about this program is that no matter who you are, or where you came from, you’re all here for the same reason. For a second chance at the most valuable thing we can hold as human beings: education. Regardless of what you decide to do with your life, it will start here, because you made the choice to sign up for this program.” 

As they start going around the room, sharing bits about themselves, Alec feels himself getting nervous. It’s not that new people bothered him. At Rikers, he met new people every day, or at the very least made eye contact with them. But the other students in the class were parents, or people who really needed a new start. Alec was a stupid teenager who threw away what he had for a boy who didn’t love him  back. He’s last to introduce himself, and shifts in his desk to face the group. For a moment he looks around, making eye contact with a man who has face tattoos and a grown woman with braces. “Uh... I’m Alec. I’m from here in New York. I decided to take this class because...” he pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Because I feel like I need to.” 

Dr. Bane begins the lesson, math that Alec finds himself remembering from high school. He goes home with a study guide that he reads on the subway. At his stop, he walks up the stairs, and sees the time on a banner outside. It was dark outside, and normally he would be forced to have dinner with his family. Taking a deep breath, Alec walks slowly back to the apartment, and as he approaches the building, he considers walking past it. He could walk back to the subway, buy a  one-way ticket, and disappear. Or worse, he could call up old friends. Instead, he goes back to the apartment, and locks himself in his room for the night. 

_ Alec felt the wind blowing through his hair as he approached the stairs at the end of the park. He could hear Simon and Jace cheering him on behind him, watching. Simon was just behind him with  _ _ one foot _ _ trailing on the ground as they skated together. He steadied his phone the best he could, coming to a smooth stop at the top of the concrete steps. Alec flexed his core and bent his knees, before jumping with his skateboard following suit. He kicked the board, flipping it under his feet, before landing flawlessly at the bottom of the stairs.  _

_ “Hell yeah!” Jace cheered from the top, coming to a stop on his own board. “Did you get that Simon?”  _

_ “Yeah,” Simon answers, handing Jace his phone. Alec wiped the sweat off of his brow before walking back up the stairs. They watched the video back a few times. “I think I have enough footage to out my project together. Thanks.” _

_ “You better get an A on that project, man,” Jace says. He checks his watch for the time. “Oh shit, Alec, don’t you have to be home?” _

_ Alec looks at the other boys watch and his eyes widen. “I had to be home twenty minutes ago. Fuck,” he drops his skateboard back onto the concrete. “Text me tomorrow,” he says, and takes off down the block. He weaves in between pedestrians, before jumping off the curb and riding into the street. He weaves in and out of the traffic, ignoring the few cars honking at him. As he approaches the apartment complex, he rides back onto the sidewalk, pushing through a couple. The door man sees him coming and opens the door. Alec waves and takes a wide turn, with the intent to skate into the lobby.  _

_ But as he makes the turn, a car door opens and he crashes into it, flying over the top of the car. He skids for a moment on the concrete, and his board keeps rolling until it hits a bush. “I am so sorry,” a voice says. “I didn’t see you, are you okay?”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec groans, sitting up. He looks at his elbow, now scraped and bleeding. It would bruise, no doubt. His parents were already going to be angry at him for showing up to their party late, much less sweaty and bleeding. The person in front of him holds out their hand, and he takes it without thinking. But as he stands up, he recognizes the soft smile immediately. It was familiar. “Mr. Underhill,” he says. “I’m so sorry, is the car damaged?”  _

_ “Don’t worry about it,” the man says. He walks away and picks up the skateboard, and the two watch as the valet takes his car. “I should have seen you coming.” They start to walk toward the elevator. _

_ “My parents are going to kill me,” Alec says. The fresh wound on his elbow touches the end of his shirt, and he winces. _

_ “That looks bad,” the other man says. The elevator doors close, and they’re alone. “Let me help you bandage it.”  _

_ “No, it’s okay, I-” _

_ “It’s my way of apologizing.”  _

_ They reach the floor, and walk to the apartment. Alec opens the door, and is immediately greeted by his mother, pursing her lips the way she did when she wanted to yell at him but couldn’t. “Alec, what happened?” She asks, gesturing to his elbow.  _

_ “It’s my fault,” Underhill says. “I opened my car door at the wrong time and took him out. Please forgive me.”  _

_ “I’ll be fine,” Alec says. “I just have to get cleaned up, then I’ll be right out.” _

_ “We’ll talk later,” Maryse says. “I do have hosting to get back to.”  _

_ Alec heads toward the bathroom to watch off the blood, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it. For a moment he evaluates the scrape, before leaning forward and running cold water over it. It stings, and he winces. After a minute, the door opens, and through the mirror he sees Underhill walk in and lock the door. It was a small bathroom, tight enough that Alec could hear the other man’s breath on the back of his neck. “I said I was okay,” Alec says.  _

_ But the other man ignores him. “The last time we met, I told you to call me Andrew. Why don’t you?” He asks.  _

_ “Because you work with my parents,” Alec answers. He opens the drawer and pulls out a roll of gauze. The older man takes it and starts wrapping it around Alec’s elbow, gently. “They tell us to be formal and respectful. It makes them look good.”  _

_ “They are very uptight.” Alec laughs. “Don’t tell them I said that,” Underhill says, laughing with him. They stand in silence for a moment, and Alec can feel his hand slowly, with the lightest touch, caress his hip.  _

_ “It’s true,” Alec responds. He feels his body shiver as the feeling of the older man’s hand on his hip gets firmer. He takes a deep breath as he feels his fingers slide under the waistband of Alec’s pants. “Anyone could walk in,” he whispers. The hand travels further down, into his underwear. _

_ “I know,” Underhill says. “Do you want me to stop?”  _

_ Alec pauses for a moment. He wasn’t thinking clearly. In between shots for Simon’s project they had been smoking from a dab pen, and he was still high. He usually only called Underhill when he was mad at his parents, or Jace. It was always late at night, and they didn’t bring it up when they saw each other in public. “I’ll sneak out,” Alec says. He leans back into the touch for a moment, before grabbing the other man’s wrist to stop him. “Later. Not now.”  _

_ “Okay,” Underhill says, pulling his hand away. He bites his lip for a moment as he reaches for the doorknob. “You know, if you want to stop meeting, for any reason, we can. I enjoy our time together, but I want it to be on your terms, Alec. I know you aren’t out yet, and I work with your-”  _

_ “It’s fine,” Alec interrupts. “I’ll see you tonight.”  _

After a few weeks of no contact, Alec decides to reach out to Isabelle. His GED class was dull, but he was keeping up with the homework and decided to do it at her apartment. He got the address from Max, who knew her work schedule, and walked there himself. It took him almost thirty minutes to get there. The area was still upscale, like his  parent's apartment. Isabelle had a decent job right out of school, but Alec could tell that she was getting financial help. 

He approaches the lobby as the sun is setting over the city line. Luckily, the doorman is distracted, and he’s able to sneak into the elevator without needing to explain himself. Since getting out, Alec hadn’t been much places alone. He was scared that somehow someone would know his history, and not want him there. More often than not, he felt unwanted. 

The apartment was halfway up the building, and after walking around for a minute he finds it. Luckily, the hallway was empty. He knew he looked suspicious, in clothing too big for him and an old backpack. Suspicious for this side of the city, anyway. Hesitantly, Alec knocks, feeling the anxiety starting to build up in his chest. As he starts to focus on his breathing, he hears footsteps approach the door. But it’s not his sister who answers the door. 

“Alec?” The voice is familiar, bringing back hazy memories Alec didn’t even realize he still had. It was Clary, Jace’s high school girlfriend. She looked the same, except her hair was cut just above the shoulders. Her body was more filled out, more adult than Alec remembered. The last time he had seen her was when him and Jace were being escorted out of the courtroom after their trial. She was standing with her mother, crying, watching as the two boys disappeared out of the room. The last Alec had heard, she was going to a prestigious art school in another state. 

Before he even realizes it, Alec is being embraced by the girl. He hugs her back, seeing Isabelle walking toward them from over Clary’s shoulder. “Alec, I wasn’t expecting you to come over,” Isabelle says. Clary lets Alec go, and steps aside so he can walk into the apartment. 

“I know, I just...” he takes a deep breath. “I have homework, and I figured we needed to talk anyway. I wanted to apologize for how I reacted before.”

Isabelle smiles and shakes her head. “It’s okay, you were right to react that way. I should have told you. But, you know, Lightwoods are not the best at communication.” Alec scoffs, and follows the two girls to the living room. They disappear into another room, and Alec can hear them talking but he can’t make out what they’re saying. Just as he starts on his homework, Clary comes out and sits next to him on the couch.

“So, Izzy told me that you started a GED class,” she says. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re picking back up with school. I always thought it was a shame you never got to finish.” 

“Well, the judge wasn’t exactly sympathetic,” Alec responds. “It’s my fault anyway. It was recommended by my therapist.”

Clary nods, and they sit in silence for a few minutes. “You know, I work with an art therapist on the weekends. If you want, you could come by sometime. We help a lot of people.” 

“Thanks for the offer, but I... I don’t know. I don’t really go out,” Alec responds. Clary shrugs, and gets up. She starts pacing in front of him, and Alec spots a couple tattoos under her clothes. She dressed differently, more colorful. When he knew her in high school, she was always worried about fitting in. But now, she seemed to be more herself. 

Eventually, Clary disappears and Alec settles into his homework. It takes him less than an hour to finish it. When he’s done, he gets up and wonders into the kitchen, where Isabelle and Clary sit, talking. “So, do you like your classes?” Isabelle asks. Even though they had briefly discussed what happened, Alec could still feel some tension between them. They never did small talk. 

“It’s okay. It’s kind of nice to just show up and do the work. I remember high school being so much about your social status.” 

“I try not to remember all of that,” Clary says. “You know, after... everything... things changed. None of my friends wanted to talk to me anymore. Isabelle and I spent the last year of high school as outcasts. It’s amazing how kids will just suddenly push you away.” 

Alec’s face softens, and he looks at his sister. “You never told me that,” he says. 

“I figured you had worse problems,” Isabelle says. “The troubles of high school friendship seemed less important than prison.” Alec chuckles and leans back against the wall. “It’s true, Alec.” Isabelle sighs and shakes her head. “Sure, my friends didn’t want to hang out with me anymore. But I had Clary, and Max.”

“And Simon,” Clary adds, and Alec feels his body tense up at the name. He crosses his arms over his body.

“I know you stopped talking after, but he needed help,” Isabelle says. “Things weren’t easy for any of us after, and-”

“It’s like you said before, Izzy,” Alec cuts in. “It’s less important than prison.” 

Isabelle rolls her eyes and stands up. “I don’t know what you want from me, Alec. Or from anyone, for that matter. You don’t want to talk about anything, and-” 

“I’m talking right now.” 

“But not  _ really,”  _ Isabelle says. “I know that prison was hard. I can’t even imagine how hard it was. But since you’ve been back, you’ve been distant. I knew when your sentence was over, you would be different. But now I’m questioning if I really knew you at all.” 

Alec shakes his head. “I came over here to try and make things better between us, Izzy.” 

“Then why am I the only one trying?” Isabelle asks, raising her voice. “The truth is that when you left, it felt like half of my life was taken away from me. We were best friends, and then suddenly you were gone. And Mom and Dad asked me, every day, if I knew anything. But you were such a good liar. And you still are. I don’t really know you, Alec. And I never have.” 

“Isabelle, you know it’s not like that. I just... I’m trying to work through this, but it’s-” 

“I don’t care about what you have to say,” Isabelle says. She runs her hand through her hair, and her expression softens. “Look, Alec... You’re welcome here anytime. Whenever you want to get lunch, or go shopping. I’ll do whatever you want, because I want to make up for the lost time. But I can’t act like everything is okay. I know Mom and Dad, and Max, are all great at pretending. But I’m not, I’m over it,” she walks over to the door, standing next to her brother. “When you’re ready to show me who you really are, then we can talk.” She walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

Clary gets up too. “I’ll walk you out,” she says, and Alec follows her to the front of the apartment. “I know things are rocky between you two,” she says. “But if you ever need me, I’m around. My offer still stands, you could come paint in the park with us on the weekend if you want.” 

“That’s okay,” Alec says. He knew Clary was always the nicest one in the group. She would go out of her way to make sure everyone felt included. Alec always hated her, in secret. For a while he didn’t know why. Now, he knew it was jealousy. When Jace first started cheating on Clary, he didn’t say anything, because he wanted to see her hurt. It was clear now, that she still didn’t know. But he still felt bad about it. “I’ll have to think about it.” 

_ “Jace, come on,” Alec says. “All this just to spite your dad?”  _

_ The blonde boy shakes his head, looking away from his friends. Simon and Alec look at each other. “You don’t get it, man. Yeah, your Dad sucks. But at least you don’t have to worry about him beating your ass every time you get home.”  _

_ “Why don’t you fight back?” Simon asks.  _

_ “It’s not that simple,” Jace says. “Besides, he would probably kick me out. Getting rid of his stash will just drive him crazy. I want to watch him suffer slowly.”  _

_ “You’re a psychopath.”  _

_ “Whatever, man,” Jace opens the box of supplies that his Dad hid under his sink. For a moment, he stares at it. “There has to be a reason, right? Why he cares about it so much. Enough to ignore his only son and disappear for a week.”  _

_ “He’s an addict, Jace,” Simon says. “Are you seriously thinking of stooping-”  _

_ “You are too, Simon.” Jace interrupts. “You don’t want to admit it. But I know you. We’re all the same.  _ _ Every day _ _ when I wake up, I take something to numb whatever I’m feeling in the morning. And you do too.”  _

_ “It’s not like that.”  _

_ “You were high in first period yesterday,” Alec says. “Jace is right.” It seemed no matter how much he didn’t want to, Alec would do anything Jace said. Like maybe, it would make the other boy finally realize how much they were fit for each other.  _

_ “Just once won’t hurt, right?” Jace says. “I might as well see what all the hype is about. I wonder if it’s really worth abandoning your kid for.”  _

_ “Do you even know how to set it up?” Simon asks. Alec could tell he was trying to stall whatever was happening.  _

_ “I’ve seen him do it a million times,” Jace says, and the other two boys watch him fumble around with the needles and the white powder. “There,” he holds up the syringe, and Alec feels his heart start to beat faster.  _

_ “Jace, this isn’t going to change anything.”  _

_ “I know, but maybe... I don’t know. Fuck it,” without warning, Jace plunges the syringe into the vein in his arm, wincing. He bites his lip as he presses down on the top of it, injecting himself with the drug.  _

_ “Holy shit.”  _

_ “How do you even know where to put it?” _

_ “Are you okay?”  _

_ Jace nods, and leans back, sliding down to the floor. Alec and Simon sit next to him, waiting. The box sits between them. After about fifteen minutes, Jace starts to smile, and leans over, resting his head on Alec’s shoulder. “Totally worth leaving your kid for.”  _

_ “Jace, don’t talk that way,” Alec says.  _

_ “Don’t tell me what to do,” Jace says. His hand slides down, and grabs Alec. Alec feels himself start to feel weak. Jace’s palm was sweaty, and warm. It made Alec’s throat feel tighter. “You have to try this. I’ve never felt better.”  _

_ Alec never did well with peer pressure.  _

Dr.  Garroway sulked in the chair across from Alec, eating a bowl of peanuts. He was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt as opposed to the usual fitted suit. His  fiance had broken up with him the night before. “I can’t help being so dedicated to my work,” he says. “But I suppose it comes with a cost. I can say goodbye to my personal relationships.” Alec doesn’t respond. “It’s not the first time. In college, my girlfriends always broke up with me because I would cancel dates to do a study session. Sometimes they thought I was cheating.” He puts the peanuts down next to him on the floor. “Have you ever been in a relationship Alec?” 

“Nothing serious,” Alec says. 

The therapist leans forward. “What does that mean?” Alec shrugs. Dr.  Garroway smiles and laughs under his breath. “You didn’t strike me as a player. I’m impressed.” 

“What?” 

“The way you answered. You didn’t say no. They were short lived?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You do know.” Alec glares at the older man. Dr.  Garroway leans back again. “We should discuss it. It’s important to understand how our past relationships may shape our future ones. Especially as someone who was out of commission for six years.” Alec rolls his eyes. “We’re just two adults, talking about our sex lives.” 

“Mine doesn’t exist.” 

“Not right now. But it will, again. If you want it to,” Dr.  Garroway says. “I know you’re taking care of your mental health and education first, as you should. But eventually, you will start going out again, Alec. Your life will return to normal.”

“What normal? Will my memories disappear?” 

Dr.  Garroway picks the peanuts up again. “You know what I mean.” He looks at Alec for a moment. “Let’s talk about your first time.” 

“What, are you a sex therapist now?” 

The doctor laughs. “No. I’m just trying to lighten up the conversation. You are always so serious, Alexander. Although, I did take a course in sex therapy in grad school. The relationships of our youth help form our adulthood. When I was fifteen, my neighbor came over one day when my parents weren’t home. She was a few years older than me. A senior in high school. I had a growth spurt that summer, and I suppose she caught on. And it was a night I’ll never forget. Although, I bet  _ she _ did.” 

“I could have lived without hearing that,” Alec says. “I would have preferred it, actually.” 

“Ice cold,” Dr.  Garroway says. “As usual.  But I shared something with you. Would you like to return the favor?” 

Alec turns his head and looks out the window. One wall of the office was just a window, overlooking the buzzing city. He liked to look out during his sessions. It made him feel less alone in the room. “I always wanted to get back at my parents.” 

“You’ve mentioned it before. Why?”

“They’re just... controlling. You know. They always wanted me to be someone I wasn’t.” 

“Parents tend to do that.”

Alec sighs. He stands up and walks toward the window, looking down onto the street. Dr.  Garroway follows him, and for a few minutes they watch the streets. People shuffle past each other. Alec watches as an old couple hail a taxi, and the driver helps them put their bags in the back. He knew he still had forty-five minutes left in his session, and Dr.  Garroway didn’t like to waste time. “When I was fifteen, there was this... this guy.” He looks over at his therapist. “A  colleague of my parents. He was at all the parties and business lunches that I was dragged to. One time I hid in the kitchen. The crowd was too much for me. He came in, and... I don’t know.” He looks over at the other man, but he doesn’t say anything. He just looks at Alec, his gaze soft. “I liked how much attention he gave me. It was more than both my parents combined. That night... I don’t know. He was charming. I knew if my parents found out that I slept with them it would tear them apart. So, I snuck out... and went to his place. He was gentle. I felt... I don’t know... special.”

“So, did you tell them?” 

“Never.” 

They relocate back to the chairs. After he sits down, Dr.  Garroway gives Alec a look. It was different than any way he had looked at him before. Alec could tell it was more serious. “Alec... Have you ever told anyone about this man?” 

“I never felt the need to. It was never serious anyway. It was just sex.” 

“Sleeping with a grown man at age  fiften is serious,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Alec, it sounds to me like you were manipulated by him.” 

“I was not manipulated. I wanted to have sex with him.”

“But you kept it a secret,” Dr. Garroway says. 

“Because I didn’t want anyone to know I was gay.” Alec starts counting his breaths after he says it. He had never said it  out loud before. At Rikers, he had short flings with a few of the other inmates. But it was just physical, emotionless. He barely remembered the  occurrences . And he knew his family would never find out. 

“Alexander. I understand your struggle with coming out to your family, but the way you described this relationship is different than just finding your sexuality.” But Alec couldn’t respond, he just sat there, trying to calm himself down. “Alexander? Do we need to change subjects?” 

But Alec doesn’t respond. He just stands up, and walks out of the door. 

The apartment looked just as he remembered it. A knock off Monet painting sat above the T.V. The image was burned in Alec’s memory. He always stared at it when Andrew was touching him on the couch late at night. On the coffee table, a cup of steaming coffee sat in front of Alec, untouched. “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Andrew said from across the room. “Much less... you, of all people. I had assumed you were done with me.” 

Alec shrugs, watching as the steam fades into the air. To be honest, he didn’t entirely remember how he made it to the man’s apartment. After he stormed out of his appointment, things felt hazy. “I don’t know, I...” 

“Is this about yoga? I could tell it made you uncomfortable when you saw me the first time. But when you ignored me, I assumed you weren’t interested. But if that’s what you came over for...” 

“What do you mean?” Alec stands up, taking the coffee cup with him. He tries to sip it, but it’s too hot. 

“Don’t you remember every other time you were over here?” Andrew asks, smirking. But Alec doesn’t feel special anymore. Not like he used to whenever he was with the older man. There was something about saying it out loud that made him feel uneasy. He used to like being with Andrew. Sometimes, he would close his eyes and pretend he was with Jace. 

“I don’t know why I came over here,” Alec says. “I haven’t been thinking straight lately, you know.” 

“I’m sure prison does that to you,” Andrew says. “Alec, look... what happened between us was a long time ago. I’m married now. My husband is going to be home in an hour. I’m trying to be welcoming to you, because I know you need it.” 

“I don’t need you to be ‘welcoming’ to me,” Alec says. “I... I’m older now, and... I’ve had a lot of time to think. I’m in therapy now, and...” 

“I’m glad. You should be,” Andrew says. “Can I help you with anything?” 

“I was fifteen, the first time,” Alec says. “I was vulnerable. And you... took advantage of that. You’re the same age as my parents. I know you knew better.” 

Andrew sighs. “Alec... I knew it was wrong. I just... I was lonely, and you were right there. I shouldn’t have approached you.” 

“Then why didn’t you stop it from happening?” Alec asks. 

“I wish I had an answer. I really do. It was wrong. I liked that part, I suppose. There was a sense of danger every time. But that was over six years ago, Alec. And you came over here on your own accord most of the time. I distinctly remember you mentioning something about that boy... Jake?” 

“Jace,” Alec responds. He stands just a couple feet away from the other man. 

“Right... the one who got the life sentence.” Andrew sips his own coffee, and Alec feels his anger starting to build up. “I know what it’s like... falling in love with your best friend, only for him to turn out straight.” He pauses. “Look, Alexander, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Alec says. 

Andrew smiles, and puts his coffee down. “We don’t have to talk,” he says. Slowly, he rests his hand on Alec’s side, cradling his hip bone. They stand like that for a moment, and Alec can feel the pain in his chest building up. Slowly, Andrew’s hand travels around until it’s resting on Alec’s lower back. He gently pulls Alec forward. 

Before he even realizes he’s doing it, Alec feels his arm moving. He splashes the hot coffee onto Andrew’s chest, and the other man cries out in pain. Alec pushes him, and he trips over the rug, falling onto the wood floor. Alec follows him down, landing the first punch on his cheekbone. He hits him again, on the other side of his face, then on the nose. The man cries out, as blood spurts out of his nose. “Stop!” Andrew begs. Alec punches him once more, before Andrew pushes him back. 

For a moment, Alec stares at Andrew, unable to believe the state of his face. Before he can say anything, he gets up and runs out of the apartment as fast as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! please leave feedback I love it. it shouldn't take me as long to put out the next chapter. also if there's any characters you want to see let me and and I'll see what fits in the story.


	3. Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for sexual themes, nothing explicit, but the situation implied is unsettling. there is no non-con.
> 
> warning that in scenes with underhill, alec is UNDERAGE. nothing is violent or explicit in these parts.

“Your first practice tests went surprisingly well,” Dr. Bane says as he passes them out. “Most of my students panic the first time, and miss questions that they normally would have gotten right. Although, I noticed for most people math is the weakest subject.” He places Alec’s test onto his desk, face down, before walking back to the desk. “The good news is that there is always a right answer in mathematics. The bad news is that it can be hard to remember all the formulas. So that’s what I want to start with today.” 

As the teacher starts writing out some of the required work on the board, Alec looks at his test. He scored perfectly, not missing a single question. Dr. Bane’s handwriting was neat. He had used a purple pen, and the zeros on the page were perfectly round circles. It was as if he had meticulously drawn out each number. 

Throughout the lesson, Alec zones out. It had become a habit for him in the class. It was hard for him to focus on anything for too long. His mind only drifted to his argument with Isabelle, or that night in Andrew’s apartment. It had been two weeks since he had gone to the older man’s apartment. At first, he feared that he would press charges, but then Alec realized that it would require him to explain why Alec was at his apartment in the first place. His mother had mentioned a  colleague taking a leave of absence in the office due to injury, but it only resulted in their father picking up more hours. 

As the class comes to a close, Dr. Bane passes out another homework packet for the weekend. Alec was always the last student he handed papers to. “Mr. Lightwood,” Dr. Bane says, handing the stack of papers to Alec. “I was hoping to talk to you for a moment, privately.” 

This caught Alec off guard. He was used to slipping in and out of the class, unnoticed by most people. “Um... sure,” he responds, and they wait for the rest of the class to filter out. It felt awkward, just standing there while people shuffled around them.

“You scored perfectly on the practice exam,” Dr. Bane says. “And I distinctly remember you finishing first on that day, too. I’m not going to lie, I originally thought you were blowing it off... only to be pleasantly surprised grading them later that night.” Alec doesn’t say anything, so the teacher continues. “It has  piqued my  curiosity. If you could get the test completely right the first time, then why sign up for the full class? Why not just take the exam and be done with it?” 

Alec shrugs. The truth was that Dr.  Garroway had recommended the program specifically. He thought having work to do would give Alec more structure in his life. “I have time to kill,” Alec responds. 

Dr. Bane chuckles, and he and Alec make eye contact for a moment. Alec had never studied him so closely before. His eyes were dark, but still shined in the blinking  fluorescent lighting. Alec could spot just a smidge of eyeliner on the outside of the man’s eyelid. His eyes traveled to the man’s soft smile, and for just a moment he felt his cheeks get warm. “Forgive me if I sound to  judgmental ,” Dr. Bane says, and Alec’s eyes snap back to his. “But most of my students are... for lack of a better term... typical what our society calls burn-outs. Felons. Single parents. People stuck with lackluster lives because they never got their diploma. But you seem different. I’ve seen the car that picks you up after class sometimes. It’s worth more than my apartment.... What I’m trying to say is...” 

“I get it,” Alec interrupts. He could tell the other man was scrambling for words. But Alec knew what he meant. He had been hearing it since he got arrested as a teenager. Some people couldn’t understand why the “perfect” son of a rich family would throw away his future. “I made some bad decisions when I was younger.” 

“Everyone makes bad decisions when they’re younger,” Dr. Bane says. “Some at a higher cost than others.” Alec looks down, away from the teacher. “I wanted to give you two options going forward. If you want, we could schedule a session individually where you can take the test early and complete the course.” Alec starts following the other man out of the classroom and into the hallway. “Or, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, I was wondering if you were interested in tutoring a few of the others. As much as I love this course, unfortunately I am instructed to take my university students more seriously. It would be a great help.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec responds.

“There’s really only a few other students who are completely set on completing the course. I’m sure a few study sessions here and there wouldn’t hurt. If you are interested, of course,” Dr. Bane says. 

“I’ll have to think about it,” Alec says. They reach the parking lot, where Maryse is waiting outside the car smoking a cigarette. “I’ll let you know next week.” 

“Of course. Take your time,” Dr. Bane says. “Have a good weekend, Mr. Lightwood,” he says, smiling, before turning and walking down the sidewalk.

Alec watches him, noticing how his dark blue suit gently sways in the breeze. He slowly walks to the car. “I told you, I can take the train. I’m an adult.” 

“I know, but I like picking you up,” Maryse says. “It makes me feel young again.” She drops her cigarette on the ground and puts it out with her heel.

Once they’re on the road, Alec zones out, watching the buildings slowly go by in the evening traffic. He had thought having work to do would make him feel more like he had a purpose, but it was hard when he knew everyone else in his family were doing so much more. Max was getting the best grades in some of his classes, their father was up for a promotion, and Isabelle was supposedly offered a job that paid more.

In the parking garage of the building, they get out, but Maryse doesn’t start walking with Alec. He pauses, looking at her. Without looking at her son, Maryse pulls a cigarette from her purse and hands it to him. He raises an eyebrow, but lets her light it. Slowly, he puts it up to his mouth and inhales, feeling the burning in his lungs. 

“It’s the only habit I can’t kick,” Maryse says. But she doesn’t smoke, she just watches Alec. He nods, not saying anything. A couple walks by, looking visibly annoyed, but the two Lightwoods ignore them. “It’s calming, I suppose.” 

“But you lie about it,” Alec says. “To everyone. That doesn’t seem very calming.” 

“You don’t get to talk about lying, Alexander,” Maryse says. “Not after you have made your father and I look like fools.” Alec looks away, watching as the glowing embers fall off the cigarette and onto the parking garage floor. “How could we have not noticed?”

“I didn’t make it easy,” Alec says. “You and Father had the same routine every day. It was easy to work around.” They didn’t talk about the past much, if ever. It always made Alec’s skin crawl. But he couldn’t tell if it was because he felt bad, or if he missed it. 

“But still,” Maryse continues. “How do we not notice our son doing  _ heroin _ right under our noses.” One of their neighbors walks by, the older woman from the elevator. Her eyes widen, and she stops for a moment, staring at Maryse. “Keep walking,” Maryse snaps. 

“Mother...” Alec groans. “Could we talk about this somewhere else?” 

“I don’t see the problem. Considering anyone who knew you before already knows what happened,” Maryse says. Her demeanor had changed, she was uptight again, like Alec was used to. “Besides, this conversation is over.” 

Max was the person Alec knew his parents always wanted him to be. He was a natural athlete, but focused more on his grades. He would be going to an ivy league school in the fall, and had a few to choose from. He was popular among his peers. Girls would watch him from afar, charmed by his natural charisma. His life was the complete opposite of Alec’s. Most of his friends didn’t even know that he had an older brother.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Max says to his friends, waving. “It’s  gonna be so lit.” He grabs the hand of another boy and they pull each other into a short hug, and then Max is off. He walks down the block, unhurried. His backpack was open, revealing his array of textbooks. When he reaches Alec, he smiles, but Alec knew that walking his older brother to a meeting with his parole officer was the last thing he wanted to be doing on a Friday afternoon. 

They walk in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Alec had insisted that he could go alone, but his mother made sure someone always went with him. Isabelle didn’t mind before, but since they were no longer on speaking terms, it had solely become Max’s job. At a red light they stop, and Alec looks over at his brother. He’s on his phone,  aggressively texting someone. 

“So...” Alec starts. “Do you have any plans this weekend?” 

Max shrugs as the light turns green. They step into the crosswalk, and he puts his phone back into his pocket. “Just a party at someone’s apartment. His parents are out of town, so, you know...”

Alec nods, and they fall into silence again. He sighs. “You’re pretty popular.” 

“I guess.” 

“I was never that popular when I was your age.” 

“I know. Isabelle told me.” 

“You have conversations about my high school popularity?” 

“No, we...” Max trails off. “After you left, no one would tell me anything. But some teachers were weird about it. They asked me if I was okay a lot, and I didn’t understand why.  So, I asked Isabelle, but she never gave me a good answer.” They turn the corner leading to the entrance of the building. “But I know she was popular until you went away. And then all of a sudden, none of her friends wanted to talk to her anymore. Then I became the only person who talked to her. She helped me understand the high school social structure. Who to talk  to... How to talk to them... It wasn’t until you got back that I realized why.” 

They stop at the door. Alec crosses his arms, covering himself. “Why?” 

“Because the more likeable and popular I became, the more people forgot that we were related.” Alec looks at his brother for a moment. It seemed like no matter how much he tried, there would always be a divide between them. “I didn’t mean that,” Max says. “I mean... you know... it’s just... I don’t know what to say, Alec. I never know what to say around you. No one ever tells me anything...” 

“I get it, Max. It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine. I’m tired of just listening to Mom and Dad about everything. I want to think for myself.” 

Alec checks his  watch; he only had a couple minutes before his meeting. “You should listen to them. They mean well.”

“I don’t know about that,” Max says. He leans against the brick wall, and pulls out a small vape pen from his backpack. Alec watches as he puts it up to his mouth. 

“Max, come on,” Alec says. “That’s toxic for you. It rots your lungs.” 

“It’s fine,” Max says. “It’s just a vape pen. It’s birthday cake flavor,” he smiles, but Alec just glares at him. “I’ll stop doing this,” he holds up the pen. “When you and Mom stop sneaking cigarettes on the balcony.” 

_ Alec rolled over in his bunk, trying to ignore the pain in his neck. His  _ _ muscles _ _ had grown stiff over the last couple of months. He had started skipping on his outside time since his family stopped visiting. Just as he’s about to close his eyes for his second nap of the day, he hears a knock on the wall of the bunk. He turns his head, his eyes falling on a familiar face. “You look like shit, Lightwood,” the other inmate says. He walks forward and sits on the edge of Alec’s bed.  _

_ “Thanks,” Alec responds. He repositions his body so he’s looking up at the other man. Sebastian was a couple years older than him. They had met the year before in the cafeteria. He was one of the only people Alec talked to. _

_ “You’re paler than I remember,” Sebastian says. He leans forward, holding out his hand. Alec takes it reluctantly, letting the other inmate pull him up. They sit together for a moment, Sebastian running his thumb in small circles on Alec’s palm. “Are you growing your hair out?”  _

_ “I didn’t notice how long it was getting,” Alec responds. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”  _

_ “They skipped out again, I’m guessing?” Sebastian asks. Alec just nods and looks away from the other man. “Don’t be too hard on yourself about it. When I first got here my parents couldn’t even stand to see me for almost a year.”  _

_ “I just feel like I’m going to lose them,” Alec says. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape them... and now that it’s the opposite, I feel hurt.” Sebastian shrugs. Since his arrival at Rikers, most days Alec felt nothing. But some days, he felt everything, and needed an escape from those feelings. _

_ After a moment of silence, Sebastian looks around. When he makes sure no one is looking, he leans forward, capturing Alec’s lips with his own. The kiss felt nice, warm. But it lacked the excitement that Alec had felt whenever he looked at Jace. It had been over three years since he had seen the other boy, and he still thought about him every day. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Sebastian to convince him to sneak away. If he squinted, all he saw was the blonde hair.  _

_ When they hear an officer approaching, Sebastian pulls away. “You talked to your supplier,” Alec says. Sebastian nods, licking his lip. “When?”  _

_ “Later this afternoon. In the showers,” Sebastian says. “Look, if you don’t want in, I’ll go alone. It’s not a big deal.”  _

_ “No, I want in,” Alec says. Whenever Sebastian managed to get access to ketamine, Alec was always there. He knew it was the only way he would feel better about his parents missing their visitation time.  _

_ “You know I feel bad every time I take you,” Sebastian says. “I’m not exactly proud of enabling an addict, you know.”  _

_ “I’m not an addict,” Alec says. “Not anymore. I’ve been clean. I just... need to feel something. You know how it is in here, Sebastian.”  _

_ Sebastian bites his lip, considering for a moment. “Am I not enough for you?” He asks, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest. Alec rolls his eyes _

_ “I thought you were straight,” Alec says, smirking.  _

_ “I said I was flexible,” Sebastian says. He stands up, leaving Alec on the bed. “Fifteen years is a long time to be celibate.” Alec just shakes his head.  _

_ That afternoon, Alec steps into the showers after slipping off his clothes. He always hated the bathrooms. The other inmates had no problem bumping into him, and he always felt stared at. The water never had enough pressure, and it always ran cold. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t felt clean since starting his sentence.  _

_ He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the cold, weak water hitting the back of his neck. The soap on his skin felt sticky, and he  _ _ aggressively _ _ rubbed it off with the pads of his fingers. Just as he opens his eyes, he feels a hand rest on his shoulder. He flinches, getting the cold water in his eyes.  _

_ “It’s just me, Alec,” Sebastian says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Alec takes a deep breath, glaring at the other man. He wraps his thin towel around his waist. “Let’s go.” They step through the crowd of inmates, toward the edge of the showers where people usually dried off. There were no  _ _ guards _ _ in sight, only a few of the inmates who Alec recognized whenever he went with Sebastian to a meeting.  _

_ Sebastian steps in front of Alec. He was still wearing his pants, having never actually bothered to use the showers. Him and the inmate who Alec recognized as their source whispered to each other for a minute, but Alec could tell something was wrong. The other men around him stepped closer, and Alec felt his heart beating faster. They were all bigger than him, and older. One was covered with tattoos, and had a dark look on his face. He knew there would be no use fighting anyone. _

_ “What do you mean you never got my payment?” Sebastian asks. “It’s the same every time.” His voice shakes at the end of his sentence. Alec could tell he was getting scared.  _

_ “I upped my prices,” the man says. “It’s hard getting this stuff in, you know. My plug isn’t exactly the most reliable.” Sebastian looks around, making eye contact with Alec for a second. But Alec couldn’t read his expression. He clenches his fists and starts counting his breaths, like he had taught himself in his first month of confinement. The air suddenly felt colder than it did before. “Look, we can forget all about this... but you know how I feel about my clients not holding up their end of the deal, Verlac.”  _

_ Sebastian shifts where he’s standing. Alec’s mind flashes back to a few months before. He wasn’t there, but he remembers something happening between Sebastian and the same group of men. For weeks, Alec checked in on him, watching as the dark blue bruises that scattered his body slowly faded. “What exactly are you looking for?” Sebastian asks, his voice monotone.  _

_ “My friends and I have been bored lately,” the man  _ _ responds _ _. He looks at the other inmates, who all stare at Alec, their faces blank. “We want a show.”  _

_ “What?” Sebastian asks, narrowing his eyebrows. For a moment all the men stand there, and Alec glances over to where the guard usually stands watch at the edge of the bathroom. But as he looks, he sees the officer glance in their direction, and then disappear behind the corner. Without talking, one of the inmates behind Alec grabs his bare shoulders, and shoves him down onto the tiles. He grunts in pain as he hits the ground, caught off guard. “No way, man. You aren’t touching us.”  _

_ “Relax,” the man says. “We aren’t faggots.” Sebastian reaches his hands up to his neck, and takes a deep breath. He looks down at Alec, who’s staring down at the dirty, cracked tiles. “I said we wanted a show. It’ll be worth it, I promise. I’ll give you double, just this once.” Sebastian looks at him, his face turning a dark red. “Unless you aren’t loyal anymore.” _

_ “Fuck,” Sebastian mutters under his breath. He looks between the other men, and Alec. Before he can open his mouth again, the inmate with tattoos steps forward. His large hand grabs Sebastian’s shoulder and turns him around with a grunt. _

_ Shaking, Sebastian reaches forward for Alec. His fingertips run down the bumps of Alec’s spine, gently. One more time, he looks between the other men, and Alec. But Alec just stays on the floor, his eyes closed. His breathing was slow, controlled. He could already feel the bruises forming on his knees. With a deep breath, Sebastian hooked his fingers under the paper-thin towel around Alec’s waist, and pulls it down to the floor. Alec stays silent, trying to shift his mind elsewhere. _

_ A week later, Sebastian knocked on Alec’s bunk again. He was met with the same scene. The other man lying in his bed, as hidden by the small blanket as he could be. His skin was still pale, his purple veins showing under his skin. He was awake, just staring at the bottom of the top bunk. “Alec,” Sebastian says, walking in slowly. “Are you okay?” When he doesn’t get an answer, he walks over. “Talk to me,” he rests his hand on Alec’s back, but still  _ _ receives _ _ no response. “Alec?”  _

_ “I don’t want to talk about it,” Alec mutters into his pillow. “I want to be left alone, please.” He doesn’t look back at the other man, despite his hand resting on his back. _

_ “Alec, come on,” Sebastian says. “You can just wallow-”  _

_ “Leave me alone, Sebastian,” Alec snaps. He flips over, looking up at the other man. “I have never been so humiliated in my life.”  _

_ “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have dragged you along, I-”  _

_ “I said to leave me alone.”  _

_ “Alec,” Sebastian says again. “You’re the only person who talks to me here anymore. I need you.” _

_ “I don’t understand how you can even look at me,” Alec says, his tone more hostile. “Because I can’t even look at you. This was a mistake.”  _

_ “What was a mistake?”  _

_ “Whatever this is,” he motions between himself and Sebastian. “I’m tired of it. I can’t make friends here, Sebastian. I told myself I wouldn’t. And I did... and it backfired.”  _

_ “What happened wasn’t because we’re friends,” Sebastian says, watching as Alec sits up. He was almost too tall for the bottom bunk. His hair brushed against the dented metal of the frame.  _

_ “But it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t let myself get to know you,” Alec argues. “I should’ve walked away that day in the yard.”  _

_ “So, what are you saying? You’re just done with me?” Sebastian asks, raising his voice. “You know, it happened to me too. And you don’t see me wallowing about it. Shit happens, Alec. You can’t just let yourself get swallowed by it.”  _

_ “I can’t be done with something that never started,” Alec says, standing up. His face was just inches from Sebastian’s. “You’re straight anyway, aren’t you?” Sebastian doesn’t say anything. “Right? Everything between us was just sex anyway. It doesn’t matter to me. Does it matter to you?”  _

_ “Fuck you,” Sebastian mutters. He shoves Alec into the bed frame, and he hits the back of his head on the metal. They stare at each other for a moment, before Sebastian starts to walk away. But Alec steps forward, pushing the other man to the hard floor. He drops down to his knees, punching the blonde man in the side of his face. Sebastian forces himself on top of Alec, and lands a punch of his own above Alec’s right eye. _

_ Just as Alec manages to flip Sebastian over so he is on top of the other man again, a guard rushes in. He takes his baton and slams it into Alec’s back, causing him to cry out in pain. Sebastian pushes him off, only for the guard to grab him by the arm and force him to stand. “Let’s go, Verlac,” the guard yells. “You’re done.”  _

_ As Alec lies on the floor, waiting for the sharp pain in his back to fade, he makes eye contact with Sebastian for one last time. The other man’s eyes are wide, and he’s pulled  _ _ aggressively _ _ out of the area. “I’m getting transferred to Otisville,” he yells, his voice hoarse. “Maybe I’ll get to meet your so-called best friend!” As Alec starts to feel the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, he watches the writhing Sebastian get dragged out of the unit, disappearing into the dark hallway.  _

“Dude, chill out,” Alec hears an unfamiliar voice from the front of the apartment. It was nearly three a.m., and he was lying on his bed, listening to one of his old CDs that had stayed in his desk, untouched. Even though he had been released a few months before, his room remained dusty except for his bed. “You smell like shit.” 

Hesitantly, Alec ventures out of his room, down the hallway. He’s barefoot, and moves carefully, not wanting to make a noise. In the dim light of the kitchen, he sees a teenage boy, holding up his little brother by his shoulders. “Max?” He says, and the unfamiliar boy jumps. Max slides down his body, landing with a dull thud on the wood floor. 

“Oh, shit,” the boy says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do. He got way too drunk, and threw up on himself at the party, and-” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says, walking up to them. Max looks up at him, smiling despite the state of his clothing. “I’m glad you brought him home. I can take care of it from here.” 

“Are you sure? It’s kind of my fault, and-” 

“I’m sure,” Alec says. He kneels down, now level with his little brother. Max laughs when he sees Alec. He smells heavily of vodka, and it almost makes Alec feel lightheaded. After reassuring that the other boy was safe to go home, he hooks his arms under Max’s armpits and drags him down the hallway. He pulls him into the bathroom, and starts prying his shirt off. 

As he pulls the shirt up over Max’s head, his younger brother mutters something and flails his arms, making it harder. Forcefully, Alec yanks on the shirt, getting it off of him just in time for Max to turn around and grab onto the toilet. He vomits, burying his head in the bowl. Alec scrunches up his face in disgust, just watching his younger brother. After a few minutes, Max leans back, and Alec hands him a wipe. He cleans off his face, before looking over at Alec. Since throwing up again, he seemed more  coherent . 

“What happened?” Alec asks.

“I got drunk, what do you think happened?” Max retorts. “It was a party, Alec.” 

“You’re totally wasted,” Alec says. For a moment, a memory of him once nursing Jace back to health after a party crosses his mind. “It’s not safe to drink that much, Max.” 

“You’re such a  hypocrite , Alec,” Max snaps. “I get wasted one time and you’re trying to lecture me? Seriously?” Alec looks down at his lap, fiddling with his hands. “Look, it’s just alcohol. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Besides, I’ve already been ‘scared straight,’ or whatever. That’s what happens when your brother goes to jail when you’re twelve. Mom and Dad have given me plenty of ‘talks.’” 

Alec sighs, pulling his knees in toward his chest. “I’ve apologized for that already,” he says. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Alec. It’s not like you can take it back,” Max says. They sit in silence for a moment, not looking at each other. “I sound so stupid, complaining about Mom and Dad when you literally went to  _ prison.” _

Alec shakes his head, looking back over at his brother. “It’s not stupid. We all have our problems. You shouldn’t compare them.” 

“Was it really as horrible as they make it look on T.V?” Max asks. 

“Yeah,” Alec responds. “I don’t really like talking about it. But... you know... I deserved it.”

Max shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he says. “At some point, you’re going to have to snap out of it. You can’t just stay up all night and hide in your room all day.” 

Alec nods. “I know,” he says. He was getting tired of everyone around him thinking it would be so easy for him to act “normal.” But he had come to terms when he was a teenager that no one in his family would ever truly get to know the real him. There were only two people who truly knew him. Jace and Simon. 

“No fucking way.” 

“Alec, it’s well overdue.” 

“That is not happening.” 

“It needs to.” 

“No.” 

“You can’t make me.” 

“I most certainly could.” 

Alec rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair of Dr.  Garroway’s office. It was a motion he found himself doing often. “Even if they all did agree to show up, it wouldn’t be anything I don’t already know.” 

“Family therapy is an important component of healing, Alexander,” Dr.  Garroway says. “It will take a load off of your chest. I can tell our sessions and your mood stabilizer are helping, but we’ve only breached the surface.”

“I can tell you all you need to know,” Alec says. “My brother is angry because my already strict parents were  stricter with him because they didn’t want their other son to go to prison too. My sister is an open book and doesn’t understand why I can’t be too.” 

“And why can’t you be?” Dr.  Garroway asks. “I can tell you and your sister deeply care about each other. Yet you push her away, why?” 

Alec grabs his knees and pulls them up to his chest in the seat. His  ripped-up converse dug into the cushion, but he didn’t care. “I don’t know.” Dr.  Garroway raises an eyebrow, and Alec sighs. “I... I’m not who she thinks I am, I guess. The way I think isn’t how she thinks.” 

“You don’t want her to see your vulnerability,” Dr.  Garroway says. “I understand. You’re the older brother. You still want her and your brother to look up to you.  But it’s hard when you’ve lost six years of that.” 

“I don’t think they should look up to me,” Alec says. “No one should be looking up to me.” 

“I know it’s hard to see now, but-” 

“I’m a bad person,” Alec says. “I’ve done bad things.” 

“Addiction is a disease, Alec. It’s not your fault that you succumbed to what so many people do. What makes you admirable is how you’ve gotten through it.” 

“Have I?” Alec asks, his voice quiet and higher pitched than usual. He squeezes the top of his knees with his hands. 

Dr.  Garroway’s demeanor changes. He leans in closer, and his eyes catch Alec’s. “Have you used since you got out?” 

“No,” Alec answers. “But I think about it every day.” It was the first time he had admitted it out loud.

The therapist stands up and walks over to his desk. He leans against the side and crosses his arms. Alec counts the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “When is the last time you used.” 

At first Alec doesn’t answer. “You already know. It’s in my file.” 

“November. Three years ago.” 

Alec feels himself starting to panic. He closes his eyes, and tries to drown out the office. For a few minutes, he just focuses on his breathing. “I just...” Alec starts. “It’s frustrating, I guess. That even after over six years I still want to use.” 

“Everyone’s recovery is different,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Alec... recovering from an addiction isn’t just about not using the drugs. It’s about finding a way to cope without them. Whatever you feel that is making you want them hasn’t been fixed yet. Dealing with that is what is going to make the want go away.” 

_ Alec retches into the bucket in front of him once more. His throat burned from being up vomiting all night. Every time he coughed, it felt like someone had their hands on his neck and they were squeezing him. Once he’s done, Alec gasps for air. His forehead was sweating, soaking the hair on the front of his head. It stuck to his face, covering his eyes. After waiting a moment to make sure he was done, he leans back, resting against the wall behind him. His entire body shook, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.  _

_ “Are you done?” a hoarse voice asks from the bench next to him. “I can’t sleep through all your puking, man. It’s gross.” Alec looks over, his gaze meeting with Jace. He feels his chest beat harder at the sight of the other boy. Even though he was pale and shaking too, Alec couldn’t help but still admire the other boy.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Alec says. It hurt to talk. His entire body ached.  _

_ “Don’t be sorry,” Jace says. He sighs, and holds his hand out toward Alec. After looking up for another moment, Alec takes it. As Jace pulls him up, he feels lightheaded. His body slams into the metal bench, and he’s barely able to hold himself up to sit. He slouches, leaning into Jace, who leans back. “This is fucked.” Alec’s mind starts to revert to three days ago. He feels himself starting to panic, but Jace turns around and grabs his shoulder. He squeezes it, hard enough that his knuckles turn white. “Calm yourself down, Alec. Start counting your breaths until it’s easy to breathe again.”  _

_ Alec looks over at Jace, leaning forward. Jace slows his breathing, and motions for Alec to follow suit. With wide eyes, Alec starts breathing with the other boy. As his breathing begins to settle, his body gets weaker. “Jace...” he starts.  _

_ “See, it works,” Jace says. He smiles, and despite how horrible Alec felt, watching his best friend smile still made him feel better.  _

_ As Jace opens his mouth to say something else, Alec feels his body moving forward. He couldn’t explain it, but there suddenly was an immense pressure in his chest. Before he even realizes it’s happening, he’s capturing Jace’s lips in a kiss. For a moment, Alec forgets everything around him. He feels his body go numb and the ache goes away. The smell of cheap cologne and sweat fills his nose, and his breathing calms.  _

_ But the moment is short-lived. Alec feels his back hit the wall where the bench was attached. His eyes flash open, and he sees Jace standing up, looking away. Jace stumbles across the cell, and leans onto the bars. “What the fuck?” He mutters. “What the hell was that?”  _

_ Alec feels himself starting to panic again. He could hear his heart beating in his head. “I...” He and Jace make eye contact again, but this time he isn’t drawn in by the other boy’s gaze. Instead, he feels guilt starting to build up in his head. “I’m sorry,” he pleads. “I didn’t mean to. I knew I could never... that you would never...”  _

_ “Never what?” _

_ “I knew you wouldn’t feel the same way,” Alec says, raising his voice despite how sore his throat was.  _

_ “What are you talking about?” Jace asks. He turns his body back to facing Alec. _

_ Even though Alec was the taller of the two, he felt small, and cowered beneath his best friend. “Jace... don’t you get it? I... I love you. More than I’m supposed to. More than a friend. I’ve had feelings for you since sophomore year.”  _

_ “That doesn’t make sense, Alec,” Jace says. “What about Lydia? You ditched us to have sex with her at prom. You’re straight. I’m straight.” _

_ “I left with her because she wanted to...” Alec says. “But I couldn’t bring myself to actually sleep with her. I was just lucky she kept my secret.” _

_ “So what? All this time you’ve been lying to me? You’ve been lying to everyone?” Jace asks. His eyebrows narrowed, and his fists were clenched. Alec had never been on the receiving end of the  _ _ boy's _ _ anger before. “For years? Do I even really know you?”  _

_ “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Alec could feel the  _ _ nausea _ _ he was feeling before starting to come back. His head was pounding, and he felt a sharp pain in his side. “I know you’ll never love me the way I love you.” Before Jace can say anything, Alec lurches forward and reaches for the bucket the police officers had given him. He barely makes it and starts dry heaving. By the time he’s finished, Jace is on the other side of the cell, lying on the cold floor, his back facing Alec.  _

Maryse walks into the dressing room that she left Alec in with a stack of suits folded over her arm. She smiles as she approaches him, but he doesn’t return the favor. She had walked into his room and made him wake up that morning. They hadn’t stopped arguing since. At first, it was over how Alec never bothered to comb his hair. Then, it was how he always skipped breakfast. She gave him his dose of his prescription, but not without Alec arguing about wanting to control it himself.

Every time they started arguing, Max and his father would make themselves scarce. Suddenly, Max’s door was closed, or his father had work to do in his office. Alec could tell it only made his mother angrier that she was left to deal with him, but he couldn’t help himself. Even though he didn’t want it to, everything made him angry. 

“Great choices, Mrs. Lightwood,” the store clerk said. “These can all be either dressed up or dressed down. They’re great for any occasion. A wedding... birthday dinner... whatever it is this time.” 

“An art auction,” Maryse says. She hands the stack of clothes to Alec, and motions for him to get into the dressing room. He waits to roll his eyes until after the door is closed. “It’s a company event, but all the proceeds go toward charity. Robert helped put it together, so the whole family is going.” 

Alec slips off his sweatshirt and stares at himself in the mirror for a moment. Since he had taken up yoga, his muscles were slightly more defined, but his bones still stuck out more than they should have. He brushes his  fingertips down his side, feeling the top of his ribs stick out. The first shirt is plain white and neatly pressed. As he slips his arms through the long sleeves, he hears the store clerk and his mother continue their conversation. 

“I  _ was _ wondering why Robert was so  meticulous about his purchase the last time he was here,” the clerk says. “He was so pressed about whether or not his suit was black, or if it was navy. I think he asked all of the staff.” 

“That sounds like Robert,” Maryse says. “ Every time we make an appearance it has to be perfect. Although, this one is our first company event after his big promotion.” 

“Oh, I know. That promotion is all he would talk about last week.” 

Alec steps out from behind the door, adorning the first set of suits. It fits him slightly loose in the waist, and the pant legs are too short, revealing his ankles. It’s a dark maroon, and from one look he can tell his mother doesn’t like it. “You don’t want to stand out too much in the crowd,” Maryse says. “After all, this event is about the art, not about the attendees.” She turns him around and gently pushes him back into the dressing room. Despite what she said, Alec knew what his mother really meant. She didn’t want him to stand out so no one would look at him too long and recognize him. 

The next suit fits similarly, except that the waist in the pants is too loose. It’s a navy blue with a black button up shirt. “This color just brings out your eyes,” the clerk says. He smirks at Alec and reaches forward, pulling the jacket together. Alec doesn’t respond, he just stares as the man runs his hands down his chest for a brief moment. “I mean, Maryse, I think this could be the one.”

For a second, Maryse looks between the two men. “No,” she blurts out. “I think a solid black would be the best.” The clerk nods, and Alec turns back around, back into the dressing room

“So, what are you wearing?” The clerk asks Maryse. Alec digs through his stack and pulls out a plain black suit, accompanied with a matching black button up shirt. It reminded him of his high school prom, except for the disgusting yellow tie his mother made him wear to match his date. 

“Oh, you know, just a little something my daughter helped me pick out,” Maryse says. “A dark red sheath dress we saw in a window on fifth.” 

“I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous, you always do.” 

“You’re the only one that says that to me anymore,” Maryse says. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back here. You’re a good salesman.” 

Alec steps out again, interrupting the conversation. The black suit still needs to be tailored, but it fits him better than the other two did. Maryse looks at him for a moment, and then smiles. “This is the one,” she says.

“I would agree,” the clerk says. “We’ll have to tailor it a little bit, but nothing too crazy.” He walks around Alec for a moment. “The great thing about a suit, it that it can be styled differently, given the situation. Right now, it’s completely formal, great for the auction. But the next time you wear it, could be more dressed down.” He pinches the fabric around Alec’s waist and pulls it out of the pants more, loosening the tuck. Then, he unbuttons the jacket so it hangs around Alec’s hips. “This way makes you seem more approachable and younger. Or, if you want to totally dress it down,” the clerk pulls down the sleeves of the jacket. “These shirts are made to hardly wrinkle, so just the shirt and slacks can still look professional.” 

As the sleeves come off, Alec’s look up at his mother, who audibly gasps. Confused, Alec follows her gaze down to his arm, revealing the stippled tattoo that he always kept hidden. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” Maryse says, her voice monotone. She takes a deep breath before smiling at the clerk, but Alec could see the anger in her eyes. “Let’s get it fitted, and then we’re done for today.” 

After the fitting, Alec waits at the front of the store as his mother checks out. Once she’s finished, she walks through the store, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor. “I’m sorry, I-” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Maryse snaps. She  speeds down the street, and Alec lags behind her. “I thought I made it clear raising you that my children would never have tattoos. It is unprofessional, you will never get a good job with tattoos.” She stops suddenly, and Alec almost walks into her. “I have told you before. Only thugs get tattoos.” 

“I  _ am  _ a thug, Mom.” Maryse narrows her eyebrows, and looks at her son for a moment. “I know what it’s code for. Criminal. Felon.” 

“Alec, not here.”

Some people push past them angrily, as they were blocking the sidewalk. Maryse puts her hand on Alec’s arm and they shuffle to the side of the building next to them. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Alec says. “I knew you would be mad.” 

Maryse grabs his arm and hikes up the sleeve. She analyses the work for a moment. “When did you even get this?” 

“At Rikers.” 

“Well, that would explain why it looks like shit.” 

They stand together for a moment, before Maryse scrolls through her phone for a few minutes. Then, without saying anything to Alec, she hails a cab. He doesn’t recognize the address. It only takes a few minutes to get to their destination. As Maryse pays the driver, Alec looks at the building. It’s a tattoo  parlor , brightly lit with neon lights. “What are we doing here?” 

“It’s much easier to schedule a walk-in tattoo appointment than a  walk-in laser removal,” Maryse says. “If you’re going to have a tattoo, it better at least be a good one.” They walk into the building, and are immediately greeted by a bubbly girl standing at the desk. Almost immediately, they are directed to the back of the large room. 

The walls are decorated with pinned up photos of hand drawn artwork all done in ink. The lighting is bright, shining off the white floors. It makes Alec’s eyes hurt. They are guided to a chair sectioned off with a colorful divider, and Maryse sits down in a large velvet chair a few feet away. “Mom, you don’t have to do this,” Alec says. 

“You’re lucky I’m doing this,” Maryse says.

“I can just wear long sleeves.” 

“But what if for some reason you need to roll up your sleeves tomorrow?”

“Well, I don’t usually get a client calling in for her son,” an unfamiliar voice says. A woman, about Alec’s age, walks up to them. Her hair is long, done into box braids that fall over a forest green crop top. Alec’s eyes wander up and down her body. It’s covered in tattoos of different colors and clean black lines showing off the artwork. On her neck, there is an image of a wolf with its eyes seemingly glaring at Alec. He also spots many different types of flowers and vines that highlight different portraits and other animals. “I’m Maia,” she says, and holds out a hand toward Alec. 

“I’m Alec,” he answers, and shakes her hand. 

Maia uses the handshake as an excuse to look at Alec’s tattoo. “Man, this is going to be a major touch-up,” she says. Alec blushes, then looks over at his mother, who’s smirking. “Where did you get this done?” 

“It’s, um... homemade,” Alec says. 

“Sounds about right,” Maia says. She pulls on clean gloves and starts wiping down the area around Alec’s tattoo. “You’re lucky you called when you did. I was about to go home for the weekend.” She turns over on her stool and pulls out the supplies to start a stencil, tracing it over the work Alec already had. “The best way to fix it up is to add some color and a background. I can keep some of the stippling aspects, but to keep the shape readable I’m  gonna have to fill in the lines.” 

Still not exactly believing what was happening was reality, Alec looks between Maia and his mother. “Please, do whatever you have to do.” 

“Right,” Maia says, looking over to Alec with her eyebrows raised. She softly chuckles under her breath, and continues the stencil. 

It’s not long before Alec finds himself lying down in the chair, his forearm in the hands of a woman he met not more than half an hour before. At the first contact of the needle to his skin, he grinds his teeth, trying to hide the pain. It doesn’t hurt as much as the original tattoo, but it still stings enough to make him get tense. Every time he looks over at his mother, she’s stoic, although he can see her satisfied with watching him suffer through the  repercussions of his actions. 

Had it not been for the heavy metal music playing in the speakers above them, the atmosphere would have been completely awkward. Alec could tell Maia was confused as to why Maryse had answered for him. “You doing okay?” Maia asks about halfway through. “I’m going to add some shading under it to make it pop more, if that’s okay.” 

“I can handle it,” Alec says through his teeth. “I just want it to be over.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Maia says. “It’s going to look great when I’m finished. All my work does.” She gestures to the wall, and Alec starts trying to focus on that rather than the burning pain he felt every time Maia pressed the needle into his skin. His eyes land on a collection of portraits on the wall, all hyper-realistic. Then he travels to a collection of fish, with their eyes shining despite just being a drawing. 

“You’re really talented,” Alec says. “Did you go to art school?” 

“I could never afford it,” Maia answers. “I grew up  self-taught anyway, so I just found an artist who would take me as an apprentice after seeing my work.” They keep up the small talk for the remaining hour. It was dark out by the time they were done, and Alec was just ready to get home. 

At the register, Maryse talks with the girl from before about payment and gives a generous tip while Alec hangs back with Maia looking through her binder of work. “It might not be my business,” Maia says. “But what’s up with your mom being around the whole time? You seem a little old for that.” 

Alec laughs, looking at the work on his arm again through the plastic wrap Maia had placed on it to protect it. “There’s some big event I’m going to this weekend,” he says. “She’s... sort of worried about appearances. I guess this was faster than getting it removed.” 

“Why not just wear long sleeves?” Maia asks. 

“She prefers permanent solutions.” 

“Okay,” Maia says. “It’s way past when I was planning to head home, but I think it was worth it. I like a challenge.” Alec nods, but she continues before he can respond. “You know, most of my clients are recurring ones. So... if you start getting that itch for new ink any time soon, you know where to find me.” 

“Sure,” Alec says. “If I feel like giving my Mom a heart attack again, I’ll give you a call.” 

The car ride to the auction the next day is completely silent as their father navigates through the heavy Saturday night traffic. He had always complained about driving, but always hated relying on another driver to take them places. Alec and Max’s knees keep knocking against each other at every start and stop. They hadn’t really spoken since the night a week before when Max came into the apartment drunk. 

As they approach the valet, Robert looks at his two sons through the rearview mirror. “Be on your best behavior. Be charismatic. You know how important this is for me.” After they get out of the car and he gives the keys to the valet, the family walks through the front doors of the building. 

Paintings and statues line the walls of the room, leading to different sections that surrounded one main area with a stage. There were already a large group of people there, all dressed in fitted suits and dresses with expensive jewelry. Alec was already recognizing some people from the company, and was starting to feel self-conscious . It had been years since he had attended an event with his family and he knew he was a different person than he was back then.

“Maryse, Robert,” a woman says, walking up to them. She’s adorned in a tight-fitting long black dress and holds a Chanel purse. Alec vaguely remembers her face, but couldn’t remember her name. “You look amazing, as always.” She holds Robert’s hands and kisses both of his cheeks, then does the same thing to Maryse.

“Thank you, Camille,” Maryse says. “It’s always a joy to see you.” At the mention of the woman’s name, Alec suddenly realizes he knows the woman. She was in the same department as his parents, but she was always one promotion above them. She often attended the same events that they did, but Alec remembered her usually being at the center of all the conversations. She knew everyone, down to the detail. 

“You’re too kind,” Camille says. Her gaze then shifts to Max and Alec. “Max, you’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you. I don’t remember you being taller than me.” She smiles, and Alec sees Max blush. “And Alexander. It has been too long. You’ve grown up quite a lot. Your parents tell me you’ve been volunteering abroad for the past few years.” 

Alec looks between Camille and his parents for a moment. “I...” He makes eye contact with his mother, who just smiles at him. “Yeah. But I’m back now, so...” 

“Right,” Camille says. She smiles at Alec, but her gaze is dark, and it sends a chill down his spine. “Well, I would love to stay and chat, but it seems more people are walking in and I have my eye on a particular piece of work. I’ll see you up there soon enough, Robert,” she looks back at the stage, and then walks away. 

The Lightwoods stand in their spot for a moment, “So... what countries have I been to exactly?” Alec asks his parents. 

Eventually, his parents and Max break away, leaving Alec to stand in the corner watching everyone else interact. For a while he watches Max talk to a group of other people his age, making fun of one of the art pieces. They make faces imitating the painting, earning dirty looks from a few of the other attendees.

“Champagne, Sir?” A waiter asks Alec, holding a tray of flutes filled with the bubbling drink. 

“No, thanks,” Alec answers. Although he knew drinking would make the night easier, he didn’t want to  jeopardize his parole. 

“Are you sure, it’s flown in from-” 

“I said no,” he snaps. The waiter mutters an apology and moves on quickly, leaving Alec alone again. He goes back to people watching, and his eyes fall on his father and Camille. They stand together, speaking to the CEO of the company. Throughout the event, multiple people had walked up to his father and shook his hand, congratulating him on his promotion. Alec could tell, from across the room, that his mother was also invested in watching her husband. She stood with other employees, but didn’t seem invested in their conversation. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec sees a tall man standing next to someone bidding on a ceramic pot. After looking for a moment, the man looks up, making eye contact with Alec. His face is bruised, a dark purple. When he sees Alec, he immediately looks away. Quickly, Alec realizes it’s Andrew, and without looking darts to the side to get to the other side of the room. As he moves, he crashes into the waiter, causing him to drop the tray of champagne. The drink splashes as the glass breaks, splashing Alec and a few of the people around him. Several people look to him, and he feels his face getting hot with  embarrassment . He mutters an apology and pushes through the crowd of people looking at him. He nearly jogs to the bathroom, dodging some people.

As he escapes into the bathroom, he steps into a stall and sits on the toilet seat. He starts counting his breaths, calming himself down. He was hoping the event would be seamless, as long as he stayed on the sidelines. After a while, he stands up and walks out of the stall. At the sinks, he looks at himself in the mirror for a minute. The suit fit him well, the store clerk had tailored it to perfectly suit his body. His tattoo still stung under the sleeve. He was lucky that his mother had chosen the all black fabric, since the spots of champagne weren’t as noticeable on it.

Outside the room, he could hear the auction starting on the stage. He leans against the sink, contemplating if he was ready to go back out to the group. Someone walks in and stands next to him. “I thought that was you back there.” Alec looks in the mirror, seeing a familiar face. It’s his GED teacher, wearing a purple suit jacket decorated with a gold lining by the collar. His hair is styled back, showing off several decorated studs on his ear. In the light, a shimmering powder can be seen highlighting his cheeks. Alec looks at him, his mouth agape. “You walked into that waiter.” 

“Oh,” Alec says. “Right. Yeah... that’s me.” 

Dr. Bane smiles, and it’s contagious enough that Alec can’t help but smile back. “These events are overly crowded, aren’t they?” 

“I guess.” 

They look at each other for a moment, before Alec looks down at his shoes. He sees Magnus in converse that are drawn over with pen with different little drawings and words. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting seeing any of my students here.” 

“Well, I didn’t expect to see my teacher here,” Alec says, looking back up. 

“My best friend is one of the artists for the auction,” the man says. “Catarina Loss.” Alec just keeps staring at him. “The painter?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Alec says, and both of the men laugh again. “I’m here for my father... uh... Robert Lightwood.” 

“Oh, the host?” 

“Yeah...” 

“You must be the son who was volunteering abroad around the world.” Alec’s eyes widen, and he rests his hand on the sink. He grabs it, trying to distract himself. “I overheard some people talking about it. Although, I do find it a bit weird that your parents would let you go out and travel the world without finishing high school.” 

“Dr. Bane, I...” 

“Magnus,” the teacher says. “You can call me Magnus.”

“Magnus.” 

“That is my name, yes,” Magnus says. Alec nods and takes a deep breath. “I’m just kidding you, Alexander. You don’t have to explain anything to me.” 

Alec turns his body and leans against the counter. “Thanks,” he says. 

“You really caused a scene,” Magnus says. “With the champagne back there, I mean.” He shifts where he stands to face Alec. “White vinegar and rubbing alcohol will get the stains out. It’s a nice suit, it would be a  shame if you couldn’t wear it again.” 

“Yeah, it’s new... I should watch where I’m going more, I guess.” Alec smiles, and Magnus laughs, quietly. “Thanks for the tip. About the stains. I’ll have to try it.”

“Sure,” Magnus says. They linger for a moment, before he speaks again. “I’m glad you agreed to tutor,” he says. “How is it going so far?” 

“We’ve only met once,” Alec says. “But it seemed okay. I thought they would be annoyed with me, since I’m in the class too, but they seemed okay with it.” 

“That’s great. I’m glad it’s going well. Let me know if you need any help with it. I’ll find the time in my schedule.” Outside, the auction moves on to one of the paintings, and Magnus turns his head to listen. “That’s Catarina, I should get going.” 

“Sure,” Alec says. “I’ll let you know if the stains came out on Monday.” 

“I can’t wait to hear it.” They stand, staring at each other once again. Magnus backs up, keeping his eyes met with Alec’s. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He backs up,  disappearing out of the bathroom. 

Alec waits for a few more minutes, making sure he still looked presentable despite that he smelled like he was drinking all night. After he collects himself, he heads out of the bathroom, walking into the small hallway. The auction was still happening, and everyone was collected in the open space of the room. 

Still hesitant about rejoining the group, Alec wonders down the hallway, past the bathrooms. He hears two voices, whispering. Curious, he turns the corner, and his eyes fall on his father, speaking to Camille in a hushed voice. He watches them for a moment, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Camille smiles, and grabs the back of Robert’s head with her perfectly manicured hands. She pulls him in close and kisses him. He wraps his hands around her lower back. Alec quickly ducks back behind the corner of the hallway. Unnoticed, he walks back out to the auction, looking for his mother or Max in the crowd. 

His mother is on stage, accepting the painting she bought for a high price. She’s smiling, holding it so the audience can see it. Alec stops at the back of the crowd, watching his mother walk off the stage. The announcer at the podium starts talking. “Now we’ll be pausing to hear from the wonderful organizers of this event.” 

Robert and Camille walk onto the stage, smiling and waving to the clapping audience. Max walks up next to Alec, smelling of his vape pen. Their father starts talking about the charities, reading off of a clear script. “I hate stuff like this,” Max whispers into Alec’s ear. “Do you want to go outside and just wait for it to be over?” 

Alec looks at Camille and his father on stage once more, before looking back at Max. “Yeah. That sounds good to me.” 


	4. Windows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> typical warning for this story. addiction. sexual themes.

The further Alec got down the street, the easier it became for him to numb the thoughts in his head. Since seeing his father and Camille together, he had been debating if he should tell his mother or not. He wondered if she already knew. She had always been good at putting on a front for other people. When his grandfather died, she didn’t shed a tear in front of anyone once, not even at the funeral. His father wasn’t acting any different around Alec, so he had assumed that he didn’t know what Alec saw at the art auction. 

Despite having been out of prison for nearly five months, Alec still had a hard time being alone in the apartment. Every day, he would choose to go out running before he did anything else, in an attempt at a distraction. He found himself going until he couldn’t anymore, and had no choice but to collapse on a bench. 

Typically, there weren’t a lot of people around when he went running during the week days, so he didn’t feel  self-conscious sitting on a bench catching his breath for a while. It was starting to get cloudy above him, making it even colder than it already was. His throat burns in the cold air, and he leans forward, feeling light headed. Even though his stomach was grumbling and he could barely see straight, he feels calm on the bench.

A loud rumbling sound snaps him out of his high, and he is immediately met with the first few drops of rain. Within a few seconds, the storm begins, and Alec finds himself being drenched in large rain drops. He makes a run for it in the direction he came from, but within a couple blocks the storm completely picks up. As he’s sprinting across one of the streets, there is a loud bang from the thunder above him. Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot rings in his ears, and he comes to an abrupt stop on the crosswalk. His shoes slip on the paint of the white lines, and he falls backward, landing in a puddle. As the light turns green, the car he lies in front of honks. Alec opens his eyes wide, staring up at the dark clouds through the glare of the headlights. Just as he forces himself to stand up, the driver of the car steps out. 

“Are you okay? You need to get out of the traffic,” the man says. Alec looks over at him and stares for a moment. There is another clap of thunder, and he scrambles to get up and keep running down the street. Above him, there’s a flash of lightning, and he takes a hard turn into an alley way between two stores. 

Alec collapses under a fire escape, trying to shield himself from the rain. As the thunder booms above him again, he feels his heart start beating out of his chest. Jace’s voice plays over and over in his head.  _ I stole it from my Dad.  _ Now soaked, Alec takes his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through his contacts for a minute, trying his best to ignore the raging storm around him. Finally settling on a contact, he clicks dial. On the last ring, the person answers. “I need help,” Alec whispers into the phone before digging his head into his knees as the storm rages on. 

Dr.  Garroway’s gym clothes were too big for Alec. The Harvard t-shirt hung loosely over his broad shoulders, and the sweatpants were overly baggy. He sat on the couch on the end of the room near the book case, silently sipping the black coffee the woman at the front desk had brought him. Luckily, it was a Friday, and the therapist didn’t have any appointments past noon so he was able to pick Alec up. Since they had gotten to the office, Alec hadn’t spoken. One thing he had grown to like about the doctor was how patient he was.

“This morning the news said we would get a light sprinkle,” Dr.  Garroway says, sitting down on the couch next to Alec. “I guess that wasn’t the case.” Alec keeps staring down at his coffee. “I’ve been thinking about what you said on the phone. You told me that something was a ‘stupid idea.’ You told me to put it away.” 

“I don’t remember that,” Alec says. Now, he looks up at his therapist. His body felt weak, as if he would need help getting off the couch. He just wanted to sink into it and sleep for hours. 

“Well, it happened,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Alec, here’s what I heard.” He stares at Alec for a moment, making sure he was listening. “You called me, asking for help. I got you to say the street names you were on, and right after I told you I was on my way, you started talking about something else. What was a stupid idea, Alec?” 

Alec sips the coffee, looking away. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t remember saying that.” 

“What do you remember?” 

“I went running,” Alec says. “I stopped to take a break, and it started to rain. I decided to go home.” He pauses, and takes a deep breath. “There was thunder. I slipped on the street. That’s all I remember.” 

“You got scared,” Dr.  Garroway says. “But I don’t think it was the thunder that scared you. The loud sound of the thunder triggered something that scared you.” Alec shifts where he’s sitting, letting his feet rest on the floor. “I’ve seen you on the brink of a panic attack before, Alec. But what you experienced today was different. I believe what you had today was an episode related to post traumatic stress disorder.” Since he had started seeing his therapist, Alec had never received a concrete diagnosis of anything. As far as he knew, the doctor liked to work without putting a label on anything. “I had suspected that it might be a possibility, based on your experiences. I want to increase the lengths of your sessions and put you on an anti-depressant.” 

“No,” Alec says. “I want to continue with what I’ve been doing.” 

“Alec, what are you going to do if this happens again? Be stuck under a fire escape in the pouring rain?” Dr.  Garroway sighs. “Look, recovery is a process. And it’s a long process.  But your behavior concerns me, Alexander. I’m tempted to put you in an inpatient program.” 

“What? No,” Alec says. “I can’t be locked up again.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, before the therapist walks over to his desk. “I know, I’m not going to do that,” he says. “I’m not punishing you for what happened today. You realize that, right?” Alec leans back into the couch, sinking further into it. “Alec?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m getting you a  prescription for an anti-depressant,” Dr.  Garroway continues. “Our sessions are going to be longer, and I want you to plan on coming in tomorrow afternoon.” He writes something in Alec’s file, and then leaves it on the desk. He packs up his bag, and grabs the keys that are sitting on the desk. “I’ll give you a ride home.” 

The rush hour traffic made the ride home twice as long, and the car was completely silent. At the next red light, Dr.  Garroway turns to Alec. “I want to make a deal with you,” he says. Alec looks over, intrigued. “I want to call your family in for a group session,” he says. “In exchange, I’ll tell your parents that you can handle your pills by yourself.” 

“So, what, I finally get adult  privileges ?” Alec asks. He fiddles with his wet clothes that sat in a small pile on his lap. 

“Or I could change my mind.” 

“No,” Alec says. “Fine. But you aren’t going to get anything useful. If they even decide to come.” 

After passing back another round of practice tests, Magnus ends yet another class of the GED program. Alec finds himself packing up his stuff slow on purpose, waiting to be the last person out of the room. As he finishes erasing the white board, Magnus looks over, catching Alec’s gaze. Alec looks away quickly, and walks out of the room. 

Halfway down the hall, he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him. Magnus’s dress shoes come into view, perfectly polished. This time they were a deep blue, matching his dress shirt. Alec had a habit of looking down whenever they talked. He found it hard to keep eye contact with the other man for very long, especially after the art auction. 

“I need to thank you,” Magnus says, and Alec slows down. “Everyone you had at your study session had better scores. I think we might even be able to finish the course early at this rate. For the first time.” 

Alec feels his chest get tight, but he didn’t know why. Fear, maybe. Once the class ended, he wouldn’t have anything to look forward to anymore. The curriculum was boring, but as much he didn’t want to admit it, he looked forward to seeing Magnus three times a week. Magnus felt like he was from another world. He was proper, like Alec’s parents, but he wasn’t as uptight as they were. Even though he had college students to worry about, he still treated the GED class with respect. In all honesty, Alec had expected someone who didn’t want to be there to teach the class.

“That’s great,” Alec says. They approach the parking lot, and through the windows Alec can see his  mother's car. He stops, and Magnus nearly walks on without him. “I...” 

“Your mother, right,” Magnus says. He turns around and faces Alec again. “Can I ask you something personal?” 

“Sure,” Alec says. Outside, he can see his mother leaning against the car, smoking. 

“What is the reason you never finished school? The real reason. You weren’t abroad, were you?” 

Alec laughs without meaning to, but Magnus doesn’t. He looks at Alec intently, his gaze soft. “I, uh...” he takes a deep breath. “I got incarcerated when I was still in high school. My friends and I... did something we shouldn’t have. But I was eighteen, so I got charged as an adult. I was an adult, I guess. I just... I got out recently, and my therapist wanted me to have something to do... and I never got my diploma...”

“I see,” Magnus interrupts. “Thank you for sharing. That sounds like a difficult situation.” Someone else starts walking down the hallway, and Magnus grabs Alec’s arm, pulling him behind the corner. “I want to apologize for what I said a few weeks ago. When I mentioned that this class was usually for... ‘burn outs.’” He goes air quotes. “I shouldn’t have put a label on anyone. This is truly my favorite class to teach, because I’m passionate about second chances.” The  footsteps get closer. “And I’m happy you decided to tutor instead of just taking the test.” 

“Magnus, there you are,” a man says. He was much older than them walks forward. He’s dressed formally, similar to Magnus. “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“ Ragnor ,” Magnus says. “This is Alexander, one of my students.” The man looks at Alec with a raised eyebrow, and then holds out his hand. Alec shakes it, hesitantly.

“Dr. Fell,” the man says. “I work with Dr. Bane at NYU. I take it you attend the community college?”

After glancing at Magnus, Alec nods. He could tell by the way the two men were looking at each other he was no longer wanted. “I should go,” he says. 

“Have a good weekend,” Magnus says. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He smiles, and Alec smiles back. Dr. Fell looks between them, watching as Alec walks out of the building. 

“I want to first of all thank all of you for taking the time to be here,” Dr.  Garroway says. He’s standing in his office, in front of the rest of the Lightwood family. Alec choose the only chair that sat a single person, everyone else shared seats with each other. Isabelle had shown up last. She smiled at her older brother when she walked in, but didn’t speak to him. “Having sessions like these are not only important for Alexander’s recovery, but to also help each of you feel that you can talk to each other.” As he continues talking, Robert focuses more on his cup of coffee. “Since our sessions started Alec and I have made traction learning to understand how to deal with certain emotions that have been brought on by the past. So, to start I wanted to hear a  perspective from one of you about the day you found out Alec had been using drugs.” 

It’s silent for a moment as everyone looks at each other. Alec stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to not make eye contact with anyone. “Okay,” his mother’s voice says. “I suppose I’ll start. I am the one who wanted Alec to begin therapy, it’s only fair that I participate as well.” Dr.  Garroway nods, sitting down in his own chair. Maryse looks over at her husband for a moment, but he just keeps staring down at his coffee. “I remember it was a Friday, and Alec went out with his friends like he usually did. Robert and I were on a big project at work that week and we had to go in on the weekend instead of taking it off like we usually did. I assumed that all of the kids were sleeping in on Saturday morning, so I didn’t check anyone’s bedrooms. I should have, then I would have noticed Alec never came home that night.” 

At the mention of that Friday, Alec feels himself starting to shut down. Images of Jace and Simon flash across his mind. Simon’s eyes, bloodshot from crying. A pool of blood at Alec’s feet. Blue and red lights flashing through the window. He feels his heart starting to beat faster. Dr.  Garroway looks over to him, concerned. Alec starts counting his breathing, and tries to focus on what his mother is saying. 

“At work that Saturday I got a call from Isabelle. She had plans and didn’t know where Alexander was so he could watch Max. That night he didn’t come home either. We called his friends’ parents, and they hadn’t been home either. So that night I called the police, but they already had him on file.”

“It must have been very hard for you to find out that way,” Dr.  Garroway says.

“It was difficult,” Maryse says. “I was scared. I didn’t know where he was.” She takes a deep breath, and looks over at her son. He could tell she was on the brink of tears, and it made him feel guilty. “But that wasn’t the worst part. I got lunch with Simon’s mother a year after Alec went to prison. Simon had gotten a phone call to talk to her. Then, I realized that Alec had never called me or Robert to tell us what happened.”

“Before assuming any judgement,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Alec, is this true.” 

Alec looks between the therapist and his mother. “It’s true.” His voice is soft, nearly a whisper. “I wasn’t ready for my parents to know, I guess. I told them I didn’t want my phone call.”

“How could you not tell us, Alexander?” Maryse asks.

“I didn’t want to  disappoint you.” 

“It was too late for that,” Robert cuts in, his tone harsh. Dr.  Garroway looks at him, surprised. “Alexander...” Robert sighs. “Your mother and I have given you everything,” he says, quieter. “An  upper-class apartment. A private school with connections to prestigious schools. We even paid for a subway pass when you were fifteen so you could have freedom. And what do you do with it? You throw it back in our faces.”

“Robert, you shouldn’t get angry,” Maryse says. 

“We have the right to be angry,” Robert snaps. “Maryse, our son should be entering a career. He should have a degree. Or in graduate school. Instead he sulks in his room all day like a teenager.”

“I think it’s important to understand where Alec is in his life,” Dr.  Garroway cuts in. “He’s twenty-four, but he has had his early adult life taken away from him. There is a disconnect between his experience and the one his peers got. And it’s hard to work through that.”

“I don’t believe that,” Robert says. “Alexander,” he makes eye contact with his son. “I want you to function as a healthy adult. But you are twenty-four, you cannot just hide in your room like a child all day.” 

“Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Would you agree with that statement?” 

“I...” Alec trails off. He rarely talked to his father anyway. “It’s not on purpose,” he says. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t really have anywhere to go, I guess. I don’t want to go anywhere. Unless I have to.”

Robert looks over at his wife, who is just staring at her eldest. “I guess I just don’t understand why you need to be forced to do anything. Every day when I get home from work, you are watching television. The Alexander I know was productive. You studied every day and got good grades. You were preparing to go to college. Now, I see a different person.” 

Dr.  Garroway looks at Alec reassuringly, and nods for him to answer. Alec shifts in the chair and brings his knees up to his chest. But it didn’t matter how small he made himself, he couldn’t just  disappear . “Father...” he starts. “I went to prison. For a long time. I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ve seen things that I wish I didn’t see. I’ve done things I wish I hadn’t done. I don’t like to talk about it. It’s... hard to talk about it.”

“It’s not fair, Alec,” Isabelle cuts in. “Alec, I tell you everything. I’ve been trying to be there for you, and you just push me away. I was genuinely surprised when you invited me to come here today, but even now, you seem distant. It’s frustrating. I feel like I don’t really know you. Like I’ve never really known you.” 

“I don’t want you to know me,” Alec says, his voice louder than before. His family looks around at each other with a mix of both confusion and worry. “I...” His voice cracks. “I was  embarrassed. I still am. I needed the drugs to feel better about myself, because I hate myself. I know you don’t get that, but I do. I’m a bad person. I’m a liar. I lied to all of you. I’ve been lying. I’m scared, I guess. I don’t want you to know me. Because I don’t like who I am. I’m not the same Alexander you knew before because I was never that person. I hated all the corporate parties. I never wanted to go to an ivy league school like you wanted me to. I lied every day, and I’m sorry.”

There is a moment of silence in the room, and Alec feels like getting up and running out. Robert opens his mouth to respond first, but Maryse interrupts him. “Alexander,” she says. There were tears running down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. Alec had rarely seen her cry before, even when he was being escorted out of the courtroom at his trial. Seeing her this way made him feel weak. “It’s not your fault that you lied to us. It’s our fault for making you feel like you couldn’t be yourself around us.” Robert sighs and leans back into the couch, not looking at his son.

“Alec?” Dr.  Garroway says. “What are your thoughts about this?”

“It helps, kind of,” Alec says. “But I can’t take back what happened. And no amount of apologizing is going to take any of it back.”

Maryse reaches over and holds Roberts hand, and Alec finds himself fixating on it. Images of Camille and Robert come back to his mind. “You are such a liar,” a quiet voice says. Alec looks over to see Max leaning forward in his seat, looking at their mother.

“Max,” Isabelle says. “Don’t start.” 

“No, Alec deserves to know,” the younger boy says. He looks between his parents and Alec, before turning to face his older brother. “When our grandfather died two years ago, it was from a heart attack.” Alec remembered being told the news over the phone at Rikers. But, at that point he had become numb to everything around him, and it felt like an  afterthought . “But what no one said was why. It wasn’t just because he was old. It happened because his body was weak from years of being addicted to opioids. But we’re all perfect, so no one wanted to talk about it.”

“Max, that’s enough,” Robert snaps. 

“No, Dad, I am sick of you trying to pretend like everything is perfect when it’s not,” Max says. “You never talked about Alec every time I asked growing up. And you said it was because you didn’t want me to end up the same way. Like everything was all Alec’s fault. And you just let him think that way too. You’re both liars, too.” He stands up and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dr.  Garroway looks between Alec and his parents, who stare down at the floor. Just as he’s about to try to keep the session going, Alec speaks up. “So... addiction is genetic, in our family?” Alec asks. Maryse looks back up at him and nods. “I’ve done a lot of bad things,” he says. “And I have felt so... useless... and stupid, because I let myself get addicted to it. And there was an explanation, at least for part of the reason why I was addicted. And you decided to just let me sit there... in prison.... thinking that I was a failure, for what? For your image?” Robert and Maryse don’t answer. “This session is over,” Alec says, standing up. Dr.  Garroway watches him walk out of the room, not looking back.

Maryse follows him out, ignoring her husband calling out for her. “Alec, wait,” she calls out. She follows him through the office and down the hallway. “Alec, please,” Alec opens the door to the stairwell, and she follows him. Her heels click against the steps, echoing in the corridor. “Alexander!” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alec asks, suddenly turning around. He’s yelling, but they are alone in the stairwell.

“Because... it’s just like you said. I was so worried about how everyone else saw us, that I didn’t realize how much you were struggling.” 

“You stopped visiting me at Rikers. You left me alone there.” 

“And I regret it every day,” Maryse says. “It’s my biggest regret. I will never forgive myself for it. I’m sorry.  But I love you. And I want to have a relationship with you. With the real you, not the person you pretended to be.” 

Alec feels himself start to calm down. He catches his breath, and leans against the wall. “I... I don’t know if I want that. I’m not sure if this,” he gestures between them. “Is salvageable. I don’t know how to fix a relationship that was never there.”

Maryse sighs, and steps forward. “I already lost you once, Alec. I don’t want to lose you again.” She reaches forward and wraps her arms around him in a hug. At first, he doesn’t respond, he just stands there. But after a moment, he hugs her back, despite how foreign it felt. 

_ Alec stares at the dresser to the right of the bed, eyes falling on an array of different photos. His parents are in one, a group photo for the business. Andrew stands next to them, smiling, wearing a Christmas hat. He remembers that party, from a couple years before. It was the first time he had really felt a disdain toward being dragged to a family event. He was too old to enjoy hanging out with the other children, but still too young to fully understand the adult conversations. Andrew’s hand running up and down his back pulls him out of his thoughts. He flips around, catching a glimpse at the time on the clock. 3:40 a.m. _

_ Without saying anything, Alec leans forward and buries his head into the older man’s chest. He smelled like sweat and expensive  _ _ cologne; _ _ the same kind Alec’s father used. “You feel tense,” Andrew says, his voice quiet. He sits up, letting Alec’s body fall back into the mattress, onto his stomach. Andrew’s hands travel back to Alec’s shoulders, and he starts to gently massage the younger man. “Is everything okay?” _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec says. _

_ “Your muscles say otherwise,” Andrew says. His hands travel further down, toward Alec’s lower back. “What’s wrong?” Alec sighs into the pillow, trying to focus on the massage. But then Andrew leans down, his body over Alec’s, and he feels the older man’s breath on the back of his neck. “You only come over when something’s wrong, Alec.” Alec shifts as he feels Andrew’s hands travel past his back, under the covers. He gasps at the touch,  _ _ burying _ _ his head back into the pillow. Just as he starts to forget what they were talking about, Andrew stops. “Alec.”  _

_ “I don’t want to talk about it,” Alec mutters. He rolls over, out of the man’s grasps and sits up. He picks his briefs up off the floor and slips them back on. _

_ “Are you sure?” Andrew asks. “Alec, I know that we just... hook up... but if you need to talk about  _ _ anything, _ _ I’m here for you.”  _

_ “You said it yourself,” Alec says. “We just hook up.” Andrew watches as the boy pulls his clothes back on. _

_ “Do you want a ride, at least? It’s late, Alec,” Andrew says, sitting up.  _

_ “No, I’m fine,” Alec says. “I can’t be seen with you anyway.” Andrew walks him out of the apartment anyway, and watches the teenager walk down the hallway. _

_ As Alec gets back outside, he starts heading for the subway, hoping to catch one of the first trains back to the apartment. He scrolls through his phone, glancing at a few text messages from his sister, who was wondering where he was the night before. After he had gotten home from school that day, he, Jace, and Simon had plans to go to the skate park and film some clips. But when they got there, Jace was nowhere to be found. _

_ For a while, Simon and Alec just skated around, until they settled on a ledge to film with. Alec goes first, attempting a couple tricks onto the ledge. It took him a few tries, and he falls a couple times in the process. Simon laughed and helped him up. When he finally landed the trick, they switched off, and Alec started filming Simon. As he was holding his friend’s phone, Simon received a text from Clary. Alec knew who she was since she was friends with his sister, but they rarely talked. It was a message saying Jace was with her. That was all it took to crush Alec’s mood. Just the thought of Jace with her made him feel jealous and angry, but most of all, it just made him feel hopeless. He had known that Jace was attracted to Clary, but he never pictured them actually solidifying a relationship. _

_ Once Simon had gotten a good clip, Alec lied and said his mother wanted him home early. Instead, he went straight to Andrew’s apartment, looking for a distraction. It had become a bad habit. Most of the time, he barely even focused on the older man, and his mind just became like T.V. static. He knew it was wrong. Andrew was the same age as his mother. But it made him feel special, that someone so much older could pay so much attention to him. And as much as he pretended to like girls with his friends, he knew that his attraction to men would never go away. At least with Andrew he could pretend everything was okay.  _

In the couple of weeks following the family session, Alec finds himself hiding in his room more often than usual. Even during the day, he couldn’t bring himself to go out running. Whenever dinner was at the table, he would skip it, instead choosing to listen to his parents argue. Occasionally, Max’s voice could be heard from the table too, yelling. The doors would slam. Alec couldn’t help but blame himself. It was a feeling he couldn’t make go away, no matter how hard he tried. It had haunted him since he was a teenager. That life would be better for everyone else if he wasn’t around anymore. 

As he sat on the balcony, smoking a cigarette early Sunday morning, he heard the door slide open. He was expecting his mother, since she had tried the most to get him to talk. Instead, he’s surprised to see Dr.  Garroway sit down next to him. “That’s a bad habit,” he says. He’s wearing athletic clothing as opposed to his typical suit. 

Alec blows a cloud of smoke from his mouth, watching it  dissapear into the early morning air. “I know,” he says. 

“You’ve missed your last four sessions,” the therapist says. “Normally, I hold my patients to a high standard. I’m highly sought after, so I can’t have people stop showing up.” Alec puts the cigarette out on the railing. “But, I’m here because I want to take you somewhere.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Alec complains.

“I don’t care,” Dr.  Garroway says. He holds out his hand, and hesitantly, Alec takes it. When he’s pulled up, he gets lightheaded and falls forward. Dr.  Garroway catches him against his chest. “Okay, first, you are going to eat a proper meal.” 

After watching Alec eat a plate of bacon and eggs, made with help from Max, Dr.  Garroway leads him downstairs. They walk in silence for a few minutes, walking past dressed-up brunch goers and tourists taking pictures of the buildings. “If I had to rank it, I would say your first family session is second on my list of  train wrecks ,” Dr.  Garroway says. “I once had a patient throw a vase at her mother during a session. After that, I stopped putting flowers on my desk.” 

Alec chuckles, and they keep walking. They come across a park, buzzing with people. It reminds Alec of the yard time he got at Rikers. Except in this instance, the people around him were actually having fun. They approach a small group of people with canvasses in front of them, all surrounding one person.

“Luke,” she says as they approach. “Welcome back. It’s so good to see you, it has been too long.” She walks forward and hugs him.

“Catarina,” the doctor says. “This is Alexander, one of my patients.” The woman smiles and holds out her hand, Alec shakes it, weakly. “Alec, Catarina and I met in undergrad. She’s a wonderful artist herself, but also runs many art therapy sessions around town.” 

“Today, we’re conquering our past,” Catarina says. She gestures to an empty canvas, and Alec and Dr.  Garroway walk toward it. “A painting that reflects something that you may regret. It could be small, or it could be your biggest regret. Whatever you are willing to share with the group.” 

“Okay,” Alec says. Catarina walks away, leaving Alec to just stare at the paint and brushes sitting next to the  easel . Before he can even try to pick up the brush, someone walks up behind him. “Alec?” It’s Clary, her mouth agape. He turns around, and she hugs him. It catches him by surprise, and he stands there, arms at his sides. She pulls away, an awkward smile on her face. “I, um... mentioned to you that I volunteer with an art therapist on the weekends. Well, it’s here, with Catarina.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know, I... I could leave, if it-” 

“No, you should stay. I’m happy you’re here,” Clary says. “After what happened, art is what helped me work through it. Catarina is one of my idols as an artist. When I found out she did work like this, I had to jump on it and ask to work with her. Now, it’s what I look forward to most each week.”

“Right,” Alec says. He reaches down and picks up a brush, holding it loosely in his hand. Clary watches him for a moment.

“Here, let me show you mine,” Clary says. She walks away for a moment, and returns with a small but detailed painting. It depicts a cell phone face down on a table. Even for a seemingly rushed painting, it’s realistic, making Alec feel even more hesitant about trying to create something of his own. “This session is about regrets. I... I used to get a lot of calls from Otisville. You know... Jace.” At the mention of his name, Alec looks away. “I stopped answering them, after the first couple of years. And I regret it.” Alec hears her sigh. 

“So, what are you thinking of painting?” Dr.  Garroway asks, pulling Alec back to reality. “It doesn’t have to be anything extreme.” 

Alec stands for a moment, staring at the blank canvas. “I don’t know,” he looks around at the rest of the group, and at the crowded park. At Clary. “There’s a lot of people here.”

“I know,” Dr.  Garroway says. His voice was softer, as if he was addressing a child. “If I paint something and share too, would you at least attempt it?” Alec looks at him for a moment, then nods. The doctor then walks over to Catarina to get his own supplies for a painting. 

Next to him, Clary picks up the paint. “Okay,” she says. “What are you thinking about putting together?” 

Alec looks down at the colors. They were all bright, mostly primary. “I...” He thinks back to the night he kissed Jace. He remembered how horrible he felt about it, how Jace secluded himself on the other side of the cell. The smell of Alec’s vomit made everything worse. But it felt too personal to share, especially with Clary. If he was being honest, he wasn’t ready to share anything with Clary. Even though they had barely spoken growing up, he had felt guilty that day in the courtroom when he saw her crying, watching as him and Jace were escorted out in handcuffs. 

After he looks around the park again, Alec settles on an event more recent in his life. “I want to paint bruises,” he says.

Clary’s face remains unreadable. Alec had assumed she would be more interested, possibly wondering if it had to do with Jace or Simon. But then he wondered exactly how much she knew about them. Even though her and Jace dated for a long time, he cheated on her and withheld secrets from her their entire relationship. But Alec wasn’t sure if Clary knew that. “Let’s use the blue and grey, and then add the purple over it.” She hands Alec a brush with a deep shade of blue, and then does a circular gesture with her hand. He imitates it onto the canvas, painting a sloppy oval shape. Clary continues guiding him through the painting, and it only takes ten minutes for Alec to cover all of the small canvas. When he’s finished, Clary rests her hand on his shoulder. “Do you think it’s done?” 

“I guess,” Alec says. His eyes look over the canvas. The colors complimented each other, painted on in loose circular shapes. He had filled in the background with a light grey, accidentally mixing it with the blue and purple paint. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Clary says. Before they can talk about anything else, Catarina calls for everyone to sit in a circle on the grass in between the line of canvases. Alec hesitantly sits down on the grass, with Dr. Garroway next to him. 

“First of all, I want to emphasize that this is a judgement free zone,” Catarina says. “We are all here to heal from our pasts. We can’t take back what we’ve done, but we can learn from our mistakes. Does anyone want to start?” 

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, and Alec’s eyes fall on another familiar face. Magnus sits adjacent from him in the circle, and Alec feels his chest start pounding when he sees the other man. He hadn’t been to his GED class in two weeks, and had ignored any emails he was receiving from his teacher about it. As they look at each other, Alec felt like a teenager who got caught skipping class. Magnus smiles at him and tilts his head, then does a small save. Alec looks down at the grass, then back up at Magnus, who is still looking at him. Alec smiles back, although by Magnus’s small laugh he can tell it looked awkward. 

Thankfully, Clary speaks up, eager to share first. She holds up her painting of the phone face down on the table. “My first boyfriend and I dated for a long time,” she starts. “We met in high school, and dated until we were twenty-one.” Alec stares at her painting. Even though he thought of Jace every day, he hadn’t spoken to him since the day they got put into separate cop cars after their court date. It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t interested in how his former best friend was doing serving his own sentence. “He went to prison. And he would call me from there, but eventually, it became too much for me to handle. I was too scared to break up with him, so I just stopped answering his calls. I regret it. I wish I had been  brave enough to actually tell him in person.”

“Thank you for sharing,” Catarina says. “Now, we’ll go around the circle.”

Alec finds himself zoning out as everyone else starts sharing. All he can think about is how jealous he felt of Clary, and how ridiculous that made him feel. He hadn’t seen Jace in over six years. He couldn’t understand why he just couldn’t let the boy go. After a few minutes, the circle comes around to Alec. He looks over at Dr.  Garroway , feeling himself getting nervous. The therapist just nods reassuringly. 

“Um...” Alec starts. “I...” as he trails off, he looks over at Magnus, who also nods in encouragement. “I painted bruises,” he holds up the small canvas. “Or, what I wanted to look like bruises.” He looks around again, and each person looking at him makes him feel smaller. “A while ago, I went to  someone's apartment. I wanted to confront them I guess... in a way. I don’t know what happened. I was upset, and without even thinking I ended up at their apartment. I couldn’t handle my emotions. I can’t really describe what I was feeling. But, I... uh...” he looks down at the grass again, trying to pretend that Dr.  Garroway , Clary, and Magnus weren’t there. “I got angry, and I punched him. Then it got out of control, and I kept punching him. I ran away after that, but I guess I broke his jaw. I regret it. I feel bad about hurting someone else like that.” Dr.  Garroway reaches over and squeezes Alec’s knee. It helps bring Alec back to reality. 

“Thank you for sharing,” Catarina says. “Luke, it’s your turn.” 

Dr.  Garroway smiles at the group. Alec could tell they were familiar with him, meaning he must frequent the group. He holds up his painting, a messy depiction of stick figures in what appeared to be a living room. It was all done in the bright red paint, reminding Alec of the art classes him and Isabelle took in their youth. “Even though it doesn’t look like it, this is me and my former  fiancé . We used to argue a lot, because I was too involved in my work to spend more time with her. I don’t regret being so dedicated to my job.  But I do regret stringing her along for such a long time. I should have been more responsible about her feelings and let her go before things got bad between us.”

Alec zones out again as the circle goes around. It’s not until they reach Magnus that he focuses again. Magnus holds his painting against his chest, letting it sit in between his legs in the grass. Instead of the formal wear Alec was used to him wearing, he was in a loose shirt that was only buttoned halfway up, revealing several chain and bead necklaces on his bare chest. His hair was flat and tucked behind his ears instead of styled up on his head. Instead of the uptight professor Alec was used to seeing, Magnus looked much more relaxed. He hadn’t realized how young Magnus was before, but looking at him now he didn’t seem much older than Alec.

His painting is similar to Clary’s, small but detailed. It depicted a paint can lying on concrete, and Alec admired how realistic it looked. “This one is a little  embarrassing ,” Magnus says. He looks right at Alec as he talks, holding eye contact. “When I was a teenager, one of my friends and I had a bad habit of spray painting. We used to sneak out, and paint flowers, mostly. Which seems nice, but it was illegal. One night, we heard the police coming. It wasn’t the first time we had run from them. But when we were running, my friend tripped on a paint can that fell out of my backpack, and I left him to get arrested alone while I kept running.” He laughs. “I regret just leaving him like that. He never talked to me again after, either. Even though I was only fourteen, I wish I had more integrity.”

As the rest of the group finishes, Alec can’t help but keep looking over at Magnus. Every time they made eye contact, he quickly looked away, back at the grass. At the end of the session, Catarina thanked everyone, and her and Clary started cleaning up. Dr.  Garroway helps Alec up, pulling him up by his hand. As he stands up, Magnus walks over. 

“Luke,” Magnus says. 

Dr.  Garroway smiles at Alec’s teacher. “Magnus, good to see you. It’s been a while.” Alec looks between the two men. Even though the doctor had recommended the specific GED program Alec was in, but he didn’t realize the two men knew each other personally. 

“It has,” Magnus says. He turns to Alec. “Alexander, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. I’m good friends with Catarina, so I try to come as much as I can.” 

“He came with me,” Dr.  Garroway says. 

“I’m sorry for missing class,” Alec blurts out. Both Magnus and Dr.  Garroway look at him, and Magnus laughs. 

“It’s okay, I know you’ll pass the test,” Magnus says. “Although, I must admit I was concerned when you didn’t respond to my emails.” 

“I’ve been... sort of having a hard time lately. But I’ll be in class tomorrow,” Alec says. 

“I look forward to it,” Magnus says. Behind him, Catarina calls his name, pulling him away from the two men. 

As Alec and Dr.  Garroway start walking back to the apartment, Alec explains to his therapist what happened with Andrew. “I should have told you,” he says.

“We all move at our own pace, Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. “I’m glad you told me today. But I expect you to want to talk through things when you’re ready. It’s not my job to push you, it’s my job to listen to you.” As they reach the end of the block, waiting at the traffic light, he continues. “So, I expect to see you at your next appointment. Last chance.” 

_ Alec and Lydia stood at the outskirts of the room, watching as their peers all danced to the obnoxiously loud pop music blasting from the speakers. The teenagers danced, sloppy, grinding into each other. The teachers payed no mind, talking  _ _ amongst _ _ themselves. Prom royalty had already been announced earlier in the night, not that Alec cared.  _

_ Lydia looked beautiful. Her blonde hair was curled, pulled into a tight pony tail. Isabelle had helped do her makeup,  _ _ exaggerating _ _ her high cheekbones and big eyes. Alec had made sure to compliment her, and at dinner before the dance they had done their fair share of flirting at the table. Jace and Simon kept making eyes at Alec, smirking and making gestures with their hands every time Lydia looked away. Alec couldn’t help but roll his eyes at them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Lydia. She was smart, she was understanding, and she always listened to what Alec had to say, no matter what it was. But he knew, deep down, that even though he liked her, it wasn’t romantic. Not the way he felt about Jace.  _

_ “Do you mind if I dance with my friends?” Lydia asks. Alec had declined dancing the entire night, even during the slow music. He could tell it was annoying his date, but it was  _ _ embarrassing _ _ for him to even think about dancing with the other students watching. _

_ “No,” Alec says, raising his voice over the music. “I’m  _ _ gonna _ _ go get some air.” She smiles, going to the dance floor with her friends, while Alec shifts through the crowd, heading out of the decorated gym. _

_ Outside, he ignores the few students standing around, and walks around the corner of the building. He sees Simon and Jace standing together, talking with low voices. “Oh, is Lydia not enough for you?” Jace asks, leaning against the brick. “You seemed pretty into her at dinner tonight.” _

_ “Shut up,” Alec retorts. When he steps up next to them, Simon hands him a small bag filled with white powder. He feels himself drawn to it immediately. His high from the afternoon had worn away as they were getting ready for the dance, but being with the group had distracted him from it. _

_ “I saw the way she was eyeing you, man,” Jace says. “She wants your-” _

_ “I said shut up, Jace,” Alec snaps. Jace and Simon just laugh, and he could tell the drugs were already starting to hit them. He opens the bag, then licks his finger before pouring the powder onto it. It sticks, and he looks at it for just a moment before bringing it up to his nose and snorting it quickly.  _

_ “I can  _ _ already _ _ see the night I’m  _ _ gonna _ _ have with Clary,” Jace says. “Her parents are out of town, dude. And she’s totally crazy in bed. Artsy girls always are. Last time, she wanted me to tie her up.”  _

_ “ _ _ No, _ _ she didn’t,” Simon says, but he was still laughing. “Clary isn’t like that.”  _

_ “How would you know? You dated her in fifth grade.”  _

_ “I know Clary better than you do.”  _

_ “Whatever, man.”  _

_ “Knock it off,” Alec interrupts the two. Clary had always been a tough subject between them. As much as Simon wouldn’t admit it, he still had a thing for Clary. Alec felt closer to him in that way, because he felt the same jealousy whenever they saw Clary and Jace together. _

_ Simon and Jace stop arguing, and Alec watches as Simon walks in a small circle. He’s shaking. In the past month, his hair had gotten longer, hiding his face. His skin looked worse than it did before, ridden with acne. Alec had noticed that his  _ _ friend's _ _ anxiety had gotten worse, but he didn’t know what to say. Despite how much they hung out and how close they were, there was one thing that went unsaid. They were all addicted to the same drug, and if one person got caught, they all would get caught. _

_ “Alec?” A female voice calls out behind them. Alec quickly hands the small bag back to Simon, who puts it in his pocket. It’s Lydia, now sweaty and pink-faced from dancing. She leans against the side of the school, smiling. “I’m ready to get out of here if you are.” _

_ Alec looks between Simon and Jace, feeling his cheeks get hot. He was starting to feel lighter on his feet already. “Go,” Jace says. “Remember to use protection, and uh... don’t finish in five seconds.”  _

_ “I’m sure you know that from experience,” Alec responds, and then turns around, leaving an annoyed Jace and a giddy Simon. When he meets Lydia, she grabs his hand, and they walk to her car.  _

_ “Your sister never gets tired,” Lydia says as they climb into the seats. She turns on the ignition, and pulls out of the parking lot. “I swear, she was the first one dancing, and she still was when I left.” _

_ “Izzy loves dancing,” Alec says. _

_ “I was surprised. You wouldn’t even step foot toward it. I guess you’re totally opposite.”  _

_ Alec looks out the window, watching the lights go by. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I should have danced with you. I just... it’s not really my thing.”  _

_ “No, don’t apologize,” Lydia says. “I knew you were a quiet guy going in. It’s part of why I like you, Alec.”  _

_ “Oh,” Alec blushes. The further along they got in the drive, the calmer he got. His mind was becoming hazy. “I like the way you say things,” he says.  _

_ Lydia laughs. “What?”  _

_ “I mean... You’re way smarter than I’ll ever be. It’s like... you know what to say at the right time. Not just to me, but in class, too. You’re just nice, I guess. Like when we talked about Hamlet in English, you just knew what everything meant. I had barely read the book, but I completely understood what you were saying...” As he trails off, he looks over at her, watching the shadows on her face shift in the light. “You’re beautiful, Lydia.” She looks over at him, smiling. After a moment she pulls over in an empty parking lot, dimly lit by a broken light.  _

_ For a moment, Alec just looks at Lydia. She was the perfect girl, in the eyes of his parents. Lydia was pretty, she also came from a rich family, and she had already gotten into Yale for the fall. She was the valedictorian of their class, something that Robert had wished Alec would have been. Alec knew that if he could force himself to like her, if he could bring home the perfect girl, then he would be the perfect son for his parents. _

_ Lydia leans forward, grabbing the front of Alec’s suit, and pulls him into a kiss. At first it starts out innocent, gently. But within a few seconds, they’re all over each other. Alec’s hand wraps around her until his hand is tangled in her hair. Lydia shifts, her lips trailing down from Alec’s jaw, down his neck. She reaches back and falls into the backseat, and Alec follows suit. He catches himself on the seat, and feels her untuck his shirt. Then, she unzips his pants and pulls them down, revealing his briefs.  _

_ Alec watches as Lydia flips herself around. “Could you?” She whispers, gesturing to the zipper on the back of her dress. Alec reaches down and fumbles with the zipper, which only reveals the hooks of her bra. He stops for a moment, staring at it. “Go ahead,” she says. He struggles, but manages to unhook the garment, and Lydia slides the top of her dress down her body. _

_ In an attempt to make everything feel more natural, Alec shrugs off his suit jacket and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Lydia flips back around, revealing her bare chest to the teenage boy. He sucks in a deep breath, feeling her finish unbuttoning his shirt. “Lydia,” he starts, just barely whispering. She looks up at him, her gaze soft, but welcoming. Gently, she guides his hand to her breast, and he cups it under his palm.  _

_ She starts kissing him again, rougher this time, and he tries to get lost in her body but he couldn’t. Just as she starts to pull down his underwear, Alec pulls away. He hits his head on the top of the car in the process. “Alec? Is everything okay?” Lydia asks, covering the front of her body with her hands. “Am I moving too fast? We can slow down, if-”  _

_ “No, I...”  _

_ “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so quick to-”  _

_ “Don’t apologize.”  _

_ “No, really, it’s my fault, I-” _

_ “I’m gay.”  _

_ The two teenagers stare at each other for a moment, until Alec relaxes and leans against the window. He sighs, watching as Lydia struggles to hook her bra back together. “Here,” he says, and helps her get dressed again. As he buttons his shirt back up, she turns to him.  _

_ “I’m not angry, if that’s what you were  _ _ expecting _ _ ,” she says. “But it would have been nice to know before I let myself get all excited that Alec Lightwood asked me to prom. I wasn’t lying before. I do like you, I have for a while.”  _

_ “It was wrong for me to ask you in the first place,” Alec says. “I really meant what I said earlier. About you being smart and beautiful. I just...”  _

_ “Have you told anyone?”  _

_ Alec buttons his shirt up halfway before he stops. The window was cold on the back of his head, keeping him from completely slipping to reality. “No. I can’t.”  _

_ “Because of your family.” Alec looks at her, his eyebrows narrow. “I get it,” Lydia continues. “I come from a family of similar values. Everything has to be picture perfect. Successful in school. A great career, preferably within the family. A nice spouse with perfect children by the time you’re thirty-five that you can drag to all the socialite and charity events.” Alec just looks at her, feeling numb. As Lydia climbs back into the front seat, she continues. “Alec... I know it’s easy to fall into, but you can’t live a lie your entire life. Eventually, the truth is going to come out. And when it does, you want to come out on top.”  _

As Alec and his father walked through the office building, he got memories to when he was a child. Whenever there was no school on a weekday, him and Isabelle went with their parents to the office. They would do their homework or draw in the daycare, mingling with the other children forced there by their parents. He was helping his father pack files for a business retreat he would be taking with Camille. Since his promotion, he had much more work to do with the company. Part of it was socializing with others, even more than before. 

“I think I left just one box in the copy room,” Robert says. Just as he starts to walk out of his office, Camille steps into the doorway. She had a smile that made chills run down Alec’s spine. When he saw her, he remembered what he saw at the art auction.

“Alec, it’s been quite a while since I saw you here,” she says. “About... a decade, I believe?”

“That sounds right,” Robert says. “Once they get to a certain age, they become uninterested in going to work with Mom and Dad.” Camille laughs, and her and Robert stare at each other as he walks out. 

The woman stalks forward, coming to stand at the desk with Alec, just inches away from him. He could smell her perfume, sweet, but with a darker tone beneath it. “So, Alexander... I do owe you an apology.” Alec doesn’t respond, he just stares at the woman. “I was the one who encouraged your parents to lie at the auction. You know, about being abroad, and all that.” 

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Alec says. 

Camille walks around the desk and sits in Roberts chair. “It’s just that... you know how this kind of life is. People in our world are always making judgements about each other. Even though the failure of the supposedly perfect son does not  necessarily reflect a company, it does reflect on parenting. Because you see, the outcome of a child reflects who we are, and no one wants to make deals with someone whose son went to federal prison.” Alec looks at her, feeling unsure of what he should say. “Do you know why I promoted your father?” 

“No,” Alec answers.

“Because I haven’t seen anyone go so far to keep up an image, not even myself,” Camille says. “I feel bad for you. I really do. To have someone go so far to cover up such a... controversial... past. You could have success in this business yet.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Alec says. He still had to finish his GED class, and after that, he had no idea what he would be doing. He had yet to think that far ahead. 

Camille spins around once in Robert’s chair. When she’s facing Alec again, she smiles. “I actually came here to thank you. You see, I have an employee here... great business man. Almost never loses a sale, but he would always talk my ear off. I think he became angry when your father got the promotion over him, so his payback was to try to annoy me to death. Luckily, he turned up with a broken jaw.” 

Alec feels his chest tighten, and he looks at her with wide eyes. “I...” 

“Don’t apologize. He deserved it. It’s better than what I wanted to do to him. Ever since I crushed his corporate  dreams, he’s been asking me about the art auction. It was our biggest event by far, you know. But he just couldn’t handle your father’s success, isn’t that unfortunate?” 

“I guess,” Alec responds. He felt like with Camille, every word had to be calculated. Like one wrong move, and she would be consuming him. 

“I wanted to show my appreciation for your... service. Right now, you don’t know it, but you’ll see. I believe there’s value in anonymity. You see, one of my employees recently was caught in quite a scandal. But... the great business mogul Camille Belcourt managed to sweep in under the rug before it could get to the press. Although, his career will be over, since his reputation will be tarnished.” At the sound of Robert’s footsteps coming from down the hall, she stands up. “Alexander, I would encourage you to check in with your mother these next few days. Maryse hasn’t exactly been herself lately.” 

“It was nice having you in class this week,” Magnus says as he and Alec slowly walk down the hallway of the community college. “I... I don’t want to sound too forward, but I did miss you when you were gone.”

“I missed going to class,” Alec says. “I know it’s just a GED course, but it was the only constant in my life.”

Magnus nods, and they reach the end of the hallway. He stands with his hands held firmly on his satchel. “You know, the reason why I am so passionate about this class, is that I see it as a second chance. I was in the foster system for the last several years of my childhood, and several people told me that statistically, I wouldn’t be successful. I had been to juvie a couple times, for small things. I ditched class, and barely made it out of high school with my diploma. But, luckily, I somehow made it into a college. I had to work two jobs, and it was like hell for three years, but with that second chance I was able to pull myself together and become as successful as I am now.” 

“Wow,” Alec says, and he and Magnus look at each other for a moment. Even though he was dressed formally, Alec still had the image of the free Magnus he had seen at the art therapy session. 

“Look, the test is on Monday,” Magnus says. “I want to thank you for helping the other students.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a business card. It’s a stark white with plain black lettering reading  _ Magnus Bane, PhD. College of Arts and Sciences.  _ Outside he could see his mother’s car parked, but she wasn’t standing outside it, like she normally did. “If you’re looking for a job after next week, just give me a call. We are always looking for new office assistants in my department.” 

Alec pockets the business card. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.” He and Magnus bid each other goodbye, and he walks toward his mother’s car in the parking lot. A job seemed like more responsibility than he was ready for. When he approaches the car, he sees his mother sitting in the  driver's seat, scrolling through her phone. As he sits in the passenger seat, he looks over at her, but she doesn’t acknowledge him. “My test is on Monday,” he says. “After that I’ll be done.” 

Maryse doesn’t look at her son for a moment, she remains staring at her phone. “This afternoon at work we received a briefing about a coworker. It surprised me, but they wouldn’t disclose who it was. Not directly, anyway. I’ve known most of the office for years, so you would imagine my shock when I  received an email from Camille Belcourt expressing her  condolences .” She hands her phone to Alec, who looks at a photo. At first, he’s confused. It depicts two men, one with his back to the camera, while the other sits on the edge of a bed. The smaller man, not facing the camera, was kneeling over the lap of the other man. After a moment, the memory comes back to Alec, and he feels a wave of  nausea hit him as he looks over at his mother.

It was a screenshot of a photo from years before, when Alec was a teenager. He remembered Andrew mentioning filming some of their nights together, but it was so long ago that he wasn’t sure if it ever happened. The more he tried to think about those nights, the  hazier they got. The particular night in the picture didn’t come to his mind, but he could tell that he must have been only sixteen in the picture. As Alec looks back up at his mother, he sees her with her face buried in her hand, tears dripping down her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! leave a comment and let me know what characters you want to see and I will try to put it in!


	5. Abysmal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: in flashback scenes with Alec/underhill, Alec is A MINOR. there is nothing explicit or violent, just implied.

Maryse sips her tea with  pursed lips, stained a dark red from her lipstick. Her Chanel sunglasses reflect the morning sunlight, and Alec can see himself in the reflection of the black lenses. As people walked by, she watched them, silently judging them. For as long as Alec could remember, an early morning breakfast at one of Manhattan’s most expensive restaurants was her way of coping. She always sat at the same table. It was the perfect spot to watch people rushing in and out of the subway. She didn’t even have to order when they arrived, the waitress brought her tea without a word. 

Alec felt out of place among the crowd, hiding himself in an oversized t-shirt and ripped jeans from high school. The clothes that Isabelle had picked out for him months before still sat in the bag in his closet. His mother takes off her sunglasses just as the waitress drops off two plates of an over-garnished eggs benedict with a slice of gleaming salmon. Maryse nods at the waitress without saying anything, a signal for the girl to leave them alone. 

Slowly, Alec cuts into the egg, watching the yolk spill over the  English muffin and onto the plate. Maryse first slices into the salmon, calculatedly eating the first bite in a way that wouldn’t smear her lipstick. The night before she had been completely silent after she drove him home. She closed the door to her bedroom door and locked it while Alec and Max distracted themselves with a movie marathon. His father had left for the week, and Alec had no idea if he had seen the same picture.

“I’ve known you were gay since you were three years old, Alexander,” Maryse says. Alec stares down at his plate. “You might have been too young to remember it, but at Isabelle’s second birthday party you insisted on wearing a tiara like all the other girls. You cried and cried when I didn’t let you. Then, later that night I walked in on you dressing up the dolls with her.” Alec didn’t remember that party, but he wasn’t surprised. He had longed to play with Isabelle’s toys for much of his childhood. “I can’t say that I’m ecstatic,” she continues. “But I accepted long ago it was who you are, and I couldn’t change it. So, I decided to wait until you told me, and I would be prepared when it happened.” 

Alec drags the yolk around his plate, watching it mix with the sauce covering the salmon. “I wanted to tell you,” he says. “But...” 

“You’re good at keeping secrets,” Maryse says. “You get that from me, you know. Your father has his fair share, but he always cracks eventually. It’s what makes our marriage so... functional.” She sips her tea again, watching as someone jogs by with their dog. “Alec... I knew about you and Andrew. I’ve known for a long time.” 

“You knew?” Alec asks. He looks back up, meeting her gaze. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because it was your secret to tell,” Maryse says. “I... I wasn’t sure how... intense your relationship was. At one of the charity events, I saw him walk up behind you when he assumed no one was looking. His hand caressed your lower back. You held his hand, just for a moment. I wanted to walk right in there and stop it, but I couldn’t. There were people all around us, and I didn’t want to make a scene. I thought you would tell me. But now I know there are many things that you didn’t tell me. And there are many things I didn’t tell you.” 

Alec takes a deep breath and slowly takes a big of the egg, feeling it melt in his mouth. He could tell why his mother frequented the place so much. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. About Andrew... I was angry at you and Dad, I guess. I knew it would hurt you.” 

“Alec, I wish you would understand...” Maryse leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, which was something she had taught all her children not to do. “Your need to hurt us... is our fault. Your father and I should have been there for you. We should have recognized that you weren’t okay, and we didn’t. We were so focused on work, and parties, and our reputation. The Lightwoods have a long history in New York City, and when I married your  father, I knew that his legacy was important to him. But eventually, I got obsessed with it too. Our image. I valued that over the wellbeing of my own children. I was wrong.”

“I don’t understand why Camille sent that picture to you,” Alec says. “I barely know who she is. I don’t understand why she would... expose me... in that way.” 

“Oh, Honey...” Maryse reaches across the table and holds her son’s hand. “It’s not about you. That was just the collateral damage. It’s about me... We’re well off, as a family. We are upper class, we are wealthy. And that’s enough reason to work as much as we do. But Camille... she needs power. She’s cold. She’s unimaginable. And she’ll do anything to put someone in their place. It is not about you, Alec. I promise. You aren’t the first person she has unnecessarily victimized.” 

“I’m not a victim,” Alec says. “Everything between Andrew and I was consensual. I went to him, every time. He told me we could stop, that I could leave... and I didn’t.” 

“Alec you were a child,” Maryse mutters, trying not to draw attention to them. “You... you grew up too fast. And it’s my fault. But... don’t worry about Camille. None of this is about you, I promise.”

“I know...” Alec responds, looking back down. “But...” 

“Alexander, you are a Lightwood,” Maryse says. “You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than I could have ever imagined you to be. You just need to see it for yourself.” She squeezes her son’s hand. “I have decided that I am going to take time off to work on myself,” she says. “I got a recommendation for a therapist through Luke. I figured if I am going to push you to get better... then I should try to be better too. Alec... I don’t care about our reputation. I care about the wellbeing of my son. And I am so... disappointed that it took the email last night for me to see that.” 

“Dad’s cheating on you,” Alec blurts out before he even realizes what he’s saying. 

Maryse looks up at him, her face unreadable. “I know,” she says. “Your father and I are... great friends. Business partners. But our relationship fizzled out the day you went to prison, Alec. We stay married for Max. It doesn’t bother me that he has interest in other women.” 

“Not even with Camille?” Alec asks, watching as his mother clenches her jaw. 

“If Robert wants to play with fire, then so be it. I’ll be patiently waiting for him to get burned.” She lets go of his hand and goes back to eating, and Alec does the same. Eventually, she starts asking him about his GED test, changing the subject. It was the first time where Alec felt like he didn’t have to hide everything from his mother. It was also the first day since he was eighteen that he didn’t hear the sound of a gunshot in his dreams. 

On the last day of his father’s trip, Alec found himself sitting in his therapist’s office while Dr.  Garroway sang the traditional graduation song. He was holding a cupcake on a small plate, walking in a circle around Alec. Alec blushed watching as the man finished singing and held out the cupcake. “Thanks,” Alec says as he takes the plate. 

“This is a big deal, Alexander,” Dr.  Garroway says. “You’re a high school graduate.”

“No, I’m not. It’s just a GED.” 

“It’s an accomplishment,” he says. “In my opinion, it’s even harder to get a GED than it is a high school diploma. It’s on your own time. You should be proud.” 

“I guess.”

“Why aren’t you proud?”

Alec peels the wrapper off the cupcake, and stares at it. “I don’t know,” he says. “I... I guess I feel like I should be somewhere else.”

“What do you mean?” 

“When I was in middle school, I was top of my class,” Alec says. “I studied a lot to get the best grades. My parents were happy with me, they showed me off at all their gatherings. I was popular because of my grades. I only had one friend, but that was enough for me. In seventh grade, we had to write letters to our older selves. And I wrote that I expected to be at Harvard,” his voice cracks. “And now I... I have a GED. It’s pathetic.” 

“You need to stop thinking of yourself as pathetic,” the therapist says. “I know it’s not that simple. It’s not a flip of a switch. But the more you start celebrating your victories the easier it will be to start shifting your thought process about yourself.”

“I know, I just...”

“Recovery is hard, Alec,” Dr.  Garroway continues. He looks at the untouched cupcake. “You have made an incredible change in these last few months. Celebrate that.” 

Reluctantly, Alec licks the icing off the top of the cupcake. The doctor cheers, and they sit in a comfortable silence until Alec finished the cupcake. “Your mother approached me about getting therapy of her own. How does that make you feel?” 

“Not much different,” Alec says. “It’s not much of my business.” 

“No, but isn’t it nice to know that she’s making a change?” 

“Yes,” Alec finishes the small dessert, and places the plate and wrapper onto the coffee table.

“Do you know what triggered the change in her?” the therapist asks. “She was very... panicked when she contacted me asking for references.”

Alec closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. “Something happened at the office. I don’t know what, but... there was this... picture. A still from a video.” He looks back up and they make eye contact. Dr.  Garroway was leaning forward, his eyebrows narrowed. “It was me... and Andrew. From eight years ago. I still don’t understand why she got it or how she sent it.” 

“Who sent it?”

“Her boss,” Alec says. 

“This is serious, Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Are you okay?” At first Alec doesn’t answer. “Alexander...”

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “I... I know my relationship with Andrew was  inappropriate . But... I never felt that way when we were together. I liked being with him. I felt good when I was with him.” 

“Good how?” 

“Good like... I don’t know... he wanted me, I guess,” Alec’s voice gets quieter and higher pitched. “I wanted him, too. I would be lying if I said the sex wasn’t good. He was so experienced and I... I liked that.” 

“Sex is complicated, Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Sometimes our bodies react one way without our minds realizing what it really was.” Alec leans forward and covers his face with his hands. “Alec... you could press charges. It’s a crime.” 

“I can’t,” Alec says into his palms, muffling his voice. “The woman who sent it is sleeping with my father. She controls the company. She’s the richest person I know. I... I’ll lose. There’s no way.” He looks back up. “It slipped my mind, but now I remember that Andrew filmed us a few times. Under ten times. And I told him to a few times. I thought it would be...” he trails off and feels himself starting to panic. “The footage has to be somewhere, right? She didn’t just get it from nowhere.” 

Dr.  Garroway stands up, collecting the plate. “Alec, whatever is happening, it’s out of your control.” He walks over to the trash can and throws away the plate. The rest of the session is slow as the therapist talks Alec down from a panic attack. When he leaves, Dr.  Garroway assures him that he will have his phone on until their next session, on call in case he needed to talk at any time. 

When he gets home, now calmer, Alec is met with Max playing video games on the couch. His mother had gone out with some friends from work, and his father was still on his trip. He asks Max if he can borrow his computer, and the teenager nods without paying him any mind. As Alec sits down at the desk, he feels his body start to shake. He opens the search bar, and starts to type in a porn website. The result was already recommended. Max was bad at hiding his tracks.

The site opens, bombarding Alec with flashing  advertisements of naked women and videos with ridiculous titles. He switches the filter to men, and starts scrolling. After the first few minutes, the results start to blue together. The panic in his chest goes away, and he just keeps scrolling through each video, switching categories every few minutes. It had been years since he had looked at anything pornographic, and unlike when he was a teenager, he felt indifferent looking at it.

Outside the sun sets, and the lights of the city come to life. But Alec doesn’t notice, he just keeps scrolling, ignoring the growing hunger in his stomach. His eyes hurt from staring at the screen for too long, but he didn’t care. Just as he’s about to give up, his eyes fall on a video at the bottom of a row. Shaking, he clicks on it, immediately recognizing the bedroom. 

For a moment he watches it, seeing himself sitting on the bed. In the footage, a young Alec, naked, watches as Andrew sets up the camera. He doesn’t have the sound on, but he can see Andrew say something to him, and Alec laughs and lies back on the bed. After that, Alec couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore. 

He glances down at the view count, just over ten thousand. At the number, he stumbles out of the rolling chair. It hits the back of the bed, and Alec heads out of the room. He crashes into the door frame, grunting in pain. By the time he gets to the bathroom, he’s keeling over. Before he can really process it, Alec is  vomiting into the toilet. His knees hit the tiles and the top of his head hits the top of the bowl.

“Alec?” Max asks, wondering down the hallway. He sees his older brother throwing up, tears running down his cheeks. His eyes are glazed over, dark. It was nothing like Max had seen before. “Are you okay?” When Alec doesn’t respond, his younger brother walks into his room.

As he’s dry heaving, Alec hears a crash from across the hallway in the direction of Max’s room. He leans back, resting his quivering body against the wall of the bathroom. He hears Max saying something in a panicked voice outside the bathroom, yelling. But he can’t focus on what his brother is saying, he just sits on the bathroom floor. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t control his breathing. 

Max comes back into the bathroom and sits on the floor next to his older brother. He gawks at Alec for a moment as his older brother pulled his knees in close to his chest and sobbed into his hands. Max then wraps his arms around Alec, squeezing him tight. “Alec, you need to calm down,” he pleads, but soon enough Alec gets lost in himself. 

He doesn’t know how much time goes by, but eventually he hears another voice. “Big brother,” Isabelle whispers. She was next to Max, her hand cupping Alec’s jaw. He looks at her, shaking. She grabs onto his hands and squeezes, pulling him back to reality. “Alec, please calm down.” 

Alec says nothing, he just looks at Isabelle and Max, and starts counting his breathing. His body still shakes in the panic, but as his siblings hold him, he feels himself starting to calm down. Eventually, Max stands up, gets a small cup of mouth wash ready at the sink. Isabelle pulls her brother up, using all the force she had to get him standing. He lets go of her hands and steps forward to rinse his mouth out with the mouthwash.

When he’s finished, he lets Isabelle guide him out to the living room. They sit on the couch in  silence for a long time. Alec sat in middle, sinking into the couch. He felt his siblings leaning on him, holding his hands. Isabelle rests her head on her older brother’s shoulder. Alec listens to the clock ticking on the wall as his heart rate slows down. 

After nearly an hour, he feels his body relax. His muscles ached and his throat hurt when he swallowed. He sighs, finally calm, and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. “Alec...” Max says, his voice soft. “What was that?” 

“I...” As Alec tries to speak, his voice is hoarse. He coughs, lurching forward. “I didn’t know it was online, I...” He sighs. “Do you remember Andrew Underhill?” 

“We went to his wedding,” Max says. “He works with Mom and Dad.” 

“I used to...” Alec feels himself starting to panic again. He had kept himself split into two different people. The person who stayed up all night, lost in his thoughts, waking up from nightmares was not the person who Isabelle and Max knew. He was content with living two lives, he always had. But since he had gotten out of Rikers, it was becoming harder and harder to pretend that he was okay when behind closed doors he was falling apart. “I was angry at Mom and Dad. I wanted to make them angry, I don’t know, I... I used to sneak out to have sex with him.” 

Isabelle and Max stare at their older brother, mouths agape. “What? Alec, what are you talking about?”

“When I was fifteen, until I got arrested. I would sleep with Andrew. And I... I thought it was nothing. But now, it’s online, and I don’t know why. I don’t understand how. It’s been years. And it had... thousands of views... I don’t know what to do.” 

“With Andrew Underhill?” Isabelle asks, but it’s for herself. She stands up and paces the room. “Alec... I didn’t know... I’ve been so selfish. I love you, but you can be so frustrating, and I...”

“It’s not your fault, Izzy,” Alec says. “Or yours, Max. I went over there on my own. I’ve been living this... double life. But I’m not sure how much more I can take it. I can’t even look in the mirror anymore. I can’t stand the sight of myself.” 

“Oh, Alec,” Isabelle comes forward again, pulling her older brother into a tight hug. Max joins them, and Alec sits there, held by his siblings for hours until their mother comes home and wakes them up. Late into the night, Alec walks back to his room slowly while his mother and Max spoke in hushed voices with each other. He stops at his little brother’s bedroom, looking down at the floor. The computer is in pieces scattered across the floor; the screen crushed. That night, he lies in his bed, awake, staring at the ceiling. Having his family know more about him made him feel vulnerable, but he also felt like it was the next step in his recovery process. But every time the sound of the gunshot from years ago rings in his mind, he becomes more unsure about wanting to get better.

_ As Jace stood at the top of the stairs, he looks down, the landing feeling much further away. “No way,” he says, turning around. “Well,” he turns around again, looking down the stairs. “No. Maybe.”  _

_ Simon laughs and drops his skateboard onto the concrete. “You have to,” he says. _

_ “Dude, I’m  _ _ gonna _ _ die,” Jace says. _

_ “You’ll be fine,” Alec says. “Just hold onto it so you don’t lose it under your feet.”  _

_ “Then you do it,” Jace says.  _

_ “Fuck no,” Alec retorts. _

_ “Just one try,” Simon says. _

_ Jace looks down at the stairs once more. On his skateboard before he had managed to jump down a seven-step tall staircase, but this one was twelve steps. “Fine,” he says. He jogs back as far as he could until he was against the building. Simon jogs down the steps and Alec stands on the side. After a couple people walk by, Jace takes a deep breath and then runs forward. He throws his board onto the concrete and jumps onto it. As he rolls forward, he pumps his foot a couple times to pick up speed. At the top of the stairs he slams his back foot on the tail of the board and jumps. Halfway over the stairs he reaches down and grabs the middle of his board to stop it from falling from beneath his feet. But at the bottom of the stairs he lands with one foot on the sidewalk and one on the skateboard. His legs spread into a split and he falls forward to catch himself.  _

_ “Shit, are you okay?” Simon asks, running up to Jace. Jace groans but nods, and forces himself up. _

_ “Fuck that,” Jace says. As he picks up his board, they hear someone yelling from the top of the stairs.  _

_ “Hey, you aren’t supposed to be here!” A security guard walks toward Alec. “You need to leave.” _

_ “Just one try,” Alec asks as he runs to the building.  _

_ “Absolutely not,” the security guard says. “You need to leave now.” But Alec ignores him and runs forward, jumping onto his skateboard. The guard watches him, and just as Alec gets up to the stairs he steps in front of the teenager. Alec shifts his legs around, stopping himself with a power slide. The wheels screech against the concrete, and he stops just inches from the officer's feet. The guard stares at Alec, his face turning red with anger. “Give me that,” he snaps, reaching for Alec’s board.  _

_ Alec dodges to the side and starts running down the stairs. The security officer chases him, but as Alec runs down the guard trips and falls forward. He takes Alec down with him and they tumble down the steps, landing on the concrete at Jace and Simon’s feet. “Holy shit,” Jace says. He kneels down, resting his hand on Alec’s arm. “Are you okay?”  _

_ The guard groans and starts to get up. “That’s it,” he says. “You’re under arrest.”  _

_ “You can’t arrest us,” Simon responds. “You aren’t a real cop.”  _

_ “You’re trespassing, and now me and your friend are hurt. I’m arresting you,” the guard says.  _

_ As Jace is helping Alec up, he looks over at the guard. “Yeah, nice toy badge. Why don’t you go do something that’s productive.”  _

_ “You little shit,” the guard says, reaching for Jace. Jace forces Alec up and grabs his hand. Simon reaches down and picks up Alec’s skateboard, and they start running. Luckily, the security guard is much slower than them, and struggles to keep up. Jace leads them up the street a few blocks, dodging other pedestrians, until they reach a bench outside a  _ _ convenience _ _ store. _

_ The boys all collapse on the bench, catching their breath. As the adrenaline in his body starts to wear away, Alec looks down at his arms. They’re bloody, staining his sleeves and shorts. He scraped them when he landed at the bottom of the stairs, but when they were running, he hadn’t felt the pain. “Fuck, man,” Jace says. He gently grasps Alec’s arm, and Alec feels his heart skip a beat at the touch. “That is straight flesh.”  _

_ “That’s straight sirloin,” Simon says as he catches a glimpse at Alec’s arm. _

_ “It’s pretty bad,” Jace says. “We need to disinfect it and wrap it up.”  _

_ “I can call my Mom,” Simon says.  _

_ “No, I can do it,” Jace says. “I’ll just buy some,” he points at the store. “It’ll only take a minute.” _

_ “You don’t have to,” Alec says. _

_ “It’s my fault. Using those stairs was my idea,” Jace says. “Just let me do this for you.” Alec opens his mouth to object, but Jace ignores him and walks into the store. _

_ “That was crazy,” Simon says. “Are you okay?”  _

_ “Yeah,” Alec says. _

_ “I can’t believe you psyched out that guy,” Simon says. Alec laughs. “He was so mad.”  _

_ “He was pissed,” Alec says. Even though it went unsaid between them, they both knew that having Jace in their lives made them different. Simon and Alec both were always uptight, nerdy outsiders at school. But when they met Jace, he encouraged them to be more rebellious. In the past, Alec wouldn’t have even been using his skateboard on private property. But he wanted to impress Jace. He wanted desperately for the other boy to want to hang out with him.  _

_ When Jace comes out of the store, he sits on the bench and takes Alec’s arm, gently positioning it in his lap. He opens a pack of wipes and starts cleaning up the scrapes. It stings, and Alec winces. “This is nothing,” Jace says. _

_ “It still hurts,” Alec says. _

_ “It’ll scab over, you’ll be fine,” Jace says. He starts wrapping his friend’s arm in gauze, careful not to make it too tight. “I’ve been through worse. I gave myself stitches one time.” Simon and Jace look at him expectantly. “I got in trouble in sixth grade for drawing a dick on the whiteboard in class,” he says. “I got called out of school, and when we got home my dad was pissed because he had to leave work to pick me up. He broke a plate on the table next to me and it cut my arm. We didn’t have health insurance, so I figured out how to stitch it by myself. Ever since then I’ve been taking care of myself.” _

_ Simon and Alec are quiet for a moment, letting Jace finish the bandage. “I didn’t know you went  _ _ through that,” Simon says.  _

_ “Yeah, well it’s not exactly my favorite thing to talk about,” Jace says. His face softens, and he finishes wrapping up Alec’s arms. “Actually... I’ve never told anyone that. If you tell anyone  _ _ else, _ _ I’ll kill you.”  _

_ “We wouldn’t do that,” Simon says. “You can trust us.”  _

_ Jace looks between the two boys, and smiles. He stands up, and starts walking down the street. Simon and Alec follow him, not knowing how far their relationship was going to go. _

Alec sits on the balcony, trying to focus on his cigarette, but the sound of his mother screaming on the phone in the living room was distracting him. She didn’t waste any time making him find the video again so she could call the website and get it taken down. He wasn’t surprised. Maryse was scary when she wanted to be. 

“You are going to take all of those videos down and give me the IP address they were uploaded from or I will call back with the best lawyers in New York City,” Maryse yells into her phone. “I don’t care about the money. I want those videos off of your website right now. My son is underage in those videos. I will sue your ass into the ground if they aren’t taken off of your website in the next ten minutes.” 

On his lap, Alec’s phone starts ringing. Dr.  Garroway had been calling him all morning, but he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to talk about anything. Even though he felt closer to his siblings, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. 

When his mother walks into her room, Alec sneaks out of the front door. For a long time, he just wanders the streets of the city. He doesn’t venture far from the apartment, just enough that he can clear his head. No matter how much his mother assured him that it wasn’t his fault and she only cared about his wellbeing, he still felt like she looked at him differently. At least on the street, no one knew who he was, and he could just exist.

Eventually, he decides to sit on a bench and watch pedestrians walk by. He sees a mother, tall and blonde, in a designer pantsuit dragging her crying daughter down the street. It reminds him of growing up with Isabelle. She was always so energetic. She could play with any of the other kids, no matter who they were. Sometimes his parents had to literally drag her out of a play date. As they grew up, Alec learned that he would have to become the person to do damage control. 

Just as he starts to zone out, his phone starts ringing. He’s expecting his mother to be the one calling, angry that he walked out without telling her. Instead, it’s an unknown number. He considers not answering it, but on the last ring he presses the green button. The other line is silent at first, but then he hears a familiar voice. “I am so sorry.” 

“Andrew?” Alec asks. 

“It wasn’t me,” Andrew says into the phone. He talks slow, and his voice is hoarse. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ve hurt you, but I would never put what we did on the internet. I would never go that far.” 

“I’m the one who kept going to your apartment,” Alec says. 

“That doesn’t matter. I was the adult.”

“But it’s partly-” 

“Stop telling yourself that,” Andrew interrupts. “Look... my career is over. My life in this city is over. My husband and I are moving home to my parents...” he sighs into the microphone. “I... I’m only calling to warn you. Camille Belcourt doesn’t like it when you try to get in her way.” 

“I don’t talk to Camille Belcourt.” 

“I know... it shouldn’t be your business...” Andrew says something to someone who’s with him. In the background he can hear someone announcing flight numbers. “Look, I made a mistake. I started looking into some of the bank records. I dug too far. I tried to confront her, but... the next day I got an email linking me to that website. I didn’t realize how far she would go to get me to stop talking.”

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this, Andrew. I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to think about it.” 

“I have to catch my flight. But... just be wary about where your father is getting his money from.”

The older man hangs up the phone, and Alec stares at the disconnected call. For a minute, Alec stares at his phone screen. He can see his reflection. The circles around his eyes were darker than he remembered them being. His hair was starting to grow out again since Isabelle had taken him to get it cut. Strands stuck out from behind his ears. 

The longer he looked at himself, the number he started to feel. He didn’t want to go home to his mother. Whenever he thought of her, he thought of how emotionless she was in the precinct the day she came and paid his bail when he got arrested. He remembers how disgusted his father was in the car on the way home. That day Alec smelled like vomit and sweat. His clothes were still stained red. Isabelle slapped him across the face when they got home. Max was sent to a  friend's house.

As Alec starts walking again, he finds himself wandering into the subway entrance. He could get onto the train and go wherever he wanted, far away from the apartment. He would never have to see or speak to his family again. If he missed parole, they would start asking, and maybe he would be arrested again and put away. At least when he was in  confinement, he didn’t have to look at his mother’s disappointed face. 

The platform was crowded, and Alec had to push his way around everyone. It was rush hour, meaning it had been hours since he walked out of the apartment. But he didn’t have a single call from his mother or siblings. As he walker closer to the tunnel, his ears started to ring. Everyone around him was too loud. It felt like he could hear every little step around him. Every word. 

Andrew’s call had only confused Alec more. He didn’t want to go home and deal with the repercussions of what he did as a teenager. Sometimes, he still felt like the young, naïve boy he was years ago. Sometimes when he fell asleep at night, he thought when he woke up, he would be rushing to get out the door because he had a test, or because he had plans with Jace and Simon. But when he opened his eyes, he was still the weak, guilt-ridden felon who pushed away everyone who tried to help them. 

As he reaches the edge of the platform, he sees the headlights in the tunnel coming closer and closer. It was then, that he knew his only way out. He closes his eyes and listens for the train car to come closer. As it comes into view, Alec steps forward, his feet on the edge of the platform. Readying himself, he places his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath. 

Just as the train approaches, Alec’s hand brushes against a piece of paper in his jacket. It distracts him, he wasn’t expecting it. The train slows to a stop in front of him and the doors open. Around him, people shuffle into the strain, pushing him out of their way. Alec turns around and stumbles away, catching himself on a cement pillar. He pulls the paper out of his pocket and looks at it. It’s Magnus’ business card. The corner was folded, covering part of his name.

Alec looks at the card for a long time, running his thumb over the gold printed letters. He had forgotten about his class since he took the test. As he looks at the card, the image of Magnus’ hair flowing in the wind that day in the park comes to his mind. Thinking about the other man somehow calmed Alec. It brought him back to reality.

As he walks out of the subway, he finds himself dialing the number on the card. The buzzing on the other line makes him start to panic. Before he can hang up, Magnus picks up the phone. “You’ve reached Magnus Bane.” The sound of his teacher’s voice sends a warmth through Alec’s body. “Hello? Who is this?” 

“Hi,” Alec says into the phone, his voice louder than he wanted it to be.

“Um... hello... Is this a student?” 

“Yes,” Alec answers. “Well... not anymore... it’s Alexander. Lightwood.” Magnus doesn’t say anything on the other line. “This must be a bad time. You’re probably getting off work, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry, I-” 

“No, no...” Magnus interrupts. “I’m glad you called, actually. I’ve been grading for hours, and I didn’t even realize it. You’ve reminded me I should take a much-needed break.”

“Oh... that’s good, I guess...” 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Have you considered my offer?” Magnus asks. “About working, I mean.” 

“I’m not sure yet. I...”

“I’m at the school currently,” Magnus says. “I could use some help with a few tasks. If you’re available.”

“Sure. I could use a distraction.” 

“I’ll message you the address.” 

The office smelled like coffee beans and incense. Even though it was just a small room, Magnus had managed to make it feel homier than Alec expected. The desk was adorned with several small stones and beads that hung off the side, held on by different dimly-lit candles. At his feet there was a rug, a deep purple with a pattern that hurt Alec’s eyes at first glance. The walls were barely visible, covered by several paintings and small tapestries. One piece of work caught Alec’s eyes. It was an image of a woman sitting on a windowsill, looking out onto a dark skyline. Her features were incredibly detailed. It almost looked like a photograph. 

When Alec had arrived, Magnus had gestured to a couch that faced his desk. It was well sat-in, and some parts of the cushion were ripped. He noticed some coffee stains on the arm. Magnus walks through the door, holding two cups of coffee. One of the mugs had a faded logo of the Museum of Modern Art, and had a chip in the top. Alec had expected Magnus to be dressed in his normal formal attire, but instead he was in a wrinkled NYU t-shirt and vintage high-waisted jeans. With the shirt tucked in, Alec thought Magnus looked more like a student than a professor. 

“You’ll have to forgive me for the mess,” Magnus says. “I wasn’t expecting visitors. We’ve just reached midterms this semester, and my students love to write me long papers.” Alec nods and sips his coffee. It was strong, but he didn’t mind it. “My colleague, Dr. Fell... you may remember him from the community college... is retiring at the end of the semester. This department has been his pride and joy for many... many... years. Which means he has accumulated several copies of academic journals, textbooks, films... whatever you can name... and stacked everything in our storage room and an extra office. He needs an assistant to help him sort through everything, since our work study employees are so busy with their semester. I was hoping you might be interested in the job.” 

“That sounds... interesting. To be honest, I haven’t really thought about getting a job. I’ve been... dealing with some stuff recently... I don’t know...” 

“If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be,” Magnus says. “But... since you came all the way over here this evening, I was hoping you could help me finish sorting through one of the boxes. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.” 

“Sure,” Alec says. Magnus leads him to an open area outside his office where a box filled with files sits. Next to it there’s a pile of beige file folders with papers spilling out. Some of them were faded or crinkled. 

“All I need you to do is stack everything by date, oldest to newest. I know it’s tedious, but I promise once you get into it, the time will pass.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Alec says. If he was being honest, he was glad it was a repetitive activity to distract him from the events of the last twenty-four hours.

After Magnus makes sure Alec is okay, he disappears back into his office, leaving the door open. Alec could hear music coming from that direction. It was slow jazz, with a hip-hop feel. It felt calming to Alec, and he let himself get lost in sorting the files. Outside, the sun disappeared behind the city line and the sky fades into a deep blue of the early evening. Every so often, he would lean over from where he sat to glance at Magnus. He notices that Magnus had put on glasses, something he had never seen before. They were an old style with a bar at the top connecting the two lenses.

Eventually, Alec is interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. He turns around to see two girls, whispering to each other as they approached. They were around Alec’s age, both dressed in loose-fitting clothing that was layered. One of the girls wore an excessive amount of jewelry that hung off her neck, several chains and beads. His eyes fall on their hands, linked together.

They walk past Alec and peek into Magnus’ office. “Have you finished grading yet?” One of them asks, and Alec can hear Magnus groan. 

“I’m almost done, but I’m saving yours for last,” the professor says. “Just to torture you.” 

“Seriously?” The girl says. “It’s all I can think about, Dr. Bane.” 

“Well, that sounds like  _ your  _ problem,” Magnus retorts. “The grades will be up by midnight.  But I could work a lot faster if I wasn’t getting interrupted.”

“You just like to watch me suffer,” the girl says.

“That is not a lie.” 

The two girls pester Magnus for a couple more minutes before leaving the office. They turn to Alec and walk to the table, looking through some of the files. “I haven’t seen you before,” the girl with the jewelry says. “You must be Dr. Fell’s new slave.” 

“Don’t listen to her,” the other girl says. She sits across from Alec on the chair backwards, her arms resting on the back of it. “She’s just annoyed that Dr. Fell called her incompetent for not organizing his books in the right order. I’m Helen. This is my girlfriend, Aline.”

“I’m Alec.” 

“We’ve never seen you before. You must be undergrad. What’s your major?” 

Alec pulls another stack of files from the box. “I... uh...”

“You two are quite nosy,” Magnus interrupts. “And distracting Alexander after he so graciously decided to help me with my job.” Helen and Aline step away from the table. “If you keep it up, I’ll wait to put in grades until tomorrow morning.”

“Fine, we’re leaving,” Aline says. “But we’ll be back tomorrow before you are.” Her and Helen wave at the two men, and then disappear around the corner of the hallway.

“I’m sorry about those two,” Magnus says. “They’re part of the graduate program. They’re nerdier than I am, if you can believe it.” Alec was surprised to hear Magnus call himself nerdy. He saw him as more of a scholar. “If you don’t mind, I ordered takeout for both of us. As a thank you for coming to help with such short notice.”

Magnus steps out for a moment to meet the delivery person, and comes back with a bag of Chinese takeout. He gets plates and silverware from a drawer by the small microwave and opens all of the boxes. Alec is hesitant at first, but with Magnus’ encouragement he ends up with a large pile of noodles and egg rolls on his plate.

The two men sit in silence for a few minutes while they started to eat. Alec stares down at his plate for a minute. He had become accustomed to denying most of the food he was offered. As much as he didn’t want it to be, he felt better when he didn’t eat much. Whenever he went running, he looked forward to feeling lightheaded after. Maybe because he longed to feel high again, and it was the only way he could attempt to get close to the feeling without actually giving in to his addiction.

“You don’t like it?” Magnus asks. He was already halfway through his plate. “I should have asked you what you wanted.” 

“No, it's not that...” Alec says. “I just... I don’t usually eat that much, I guess.”

“That’s surprising. It’s just... you’re a tall, young man. I assumed you ate all day.” 

Alec laughs, softly. “I should eat more... I don’t know. It’s usually not a priority to me. Eating means... sitting with my family.” 

“I get what you mean,” Magnus says. “When I was in foster care I used to wait until everyone went to bed and then I would finish whatever they made for dinner.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec says. “I didn’t realize... I sound so dumb, complaining about eating dinner with my family. I’m so  privileged .”

Magnus shakes his head. “You apologize too much,” he says. “If you live your life sorry about everything, you lose out on a lot of it.”

“Is it bad that I want to apologize... for apologizing?” 

“If you do decide to keep working here, that is going to be my one request,” Magnus says. “You are not allowed to apologize. For anything.”

The more Magnus kept talking, the more comfortable Alec felt sitting there. Without even realizing it, he managed to eat everything on his plate. It was the first time in weeks he managed to finish a meal, and it made him feel sluggish. He could tell Magnus was getting tired too. Even though Alec still had to finish sorting, he and Magnus kept their conversation going through the doorway of the office. 

After Alec finished sorting all the files, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Magnus alone to finish his grading. He checks his phone, revealing multiple missed calls and messages from both his mother and Isabelle alike. Without another thought, Alec texts his mother and lets her know that he’s okay, before sitting on the couch in Magnus’ office. 

The clock reads 11:47 when Magnus leans back in his chair and groans. “Finally,” he says. “These students are relentless. I have thirteen unread emails just asking about midterm results. Sent in the last hour. I would much rather be sitting here talking to you.” Alec blushes and looks away, his eyes looking over all the art again.

“I used to be like that,” Alec says. “My freshman year in high school I was competing with another student for the top spot. I think I spoke to my biology teacher after school every day trying to get some form of extra credit.” 

Magnus stands up from his desk and walks around it. He untucks his shirt from his worn-out jeans and leans against the door frame. When he does, a small chime hanging above him jingles. “And how did that work out for you?”

“I caught my mother’s brand-new marble counter on fire trying to create the best science fair experiment. And Lydia Branwell ended up being valedictorian four years later.”

“Oh,” Magnus says, making a face. “That is why I decided to not go into science.” He picks his mug up and holds it upside down. It’s completely dry. “I could go for another cup of coffee...” 

“Me too,” Alec says. When Magnus comes back with two steaming cups of decaf, he sits next to Alec on the couch. It’s small and worn, and their knees knock together, but Alec doesn’t mind.

“So... tell me more about your rivalry with Lydia Branwell,” Magnus says. 

“There isn’t much to tell,” Alec responds. “I stopped... being as interested in school after freshman year. So, she had an easy fight to victory.” 

“I hate how competitive academia can be,” Magnus says. “Being top of your class is an achievement. I must admit... I was in the top ten of my class in university. But that was because I have a deep passion for history and actually had fun taking all of my classes. But there is more to being the best at everything.” 

“It’s hard to not want to be the best,” Alec says. 

Magnus pulls out his phone and types something that Alec can’t see. “Lydia Branwell... Manhattan... Is she a blonde?” Alec nods, and Magnus leans over to show him his phone screen. Their shoulders touch. He holds up an Instagram page that belonged to Lydia. She looked just as beautiful as she did in high school. If anything, she was glowing even more. As Magnus scrolled through it, he spotted a graduation photo, and a wedding photo. The most recent photo was her lying in a hospital bed holding a crying infant. “You see this?” Magnus asks, clicking on the photo. Alec can spot a man, presumably her husband, smiling next to her. “She looks happy. So happy that it’s disgusting. But you know what?” He looks over at Alec, waiting for a response. 

“What?” 

“It’s not because she went to school,” Magnus says. “This form of happiness is achievable just by living. Not by having a fancy degree, or a big job, or a big house.”

The longer the night went on, the more Alec and Magus talked. They discussed embarrassing moments from their childhood, the best places in New York, and had a heated debate on which restaurant had the best curry. Alec had grown up only eating the most expensive, high-end food. Most of the places Magnus frequented were family owned, and Alec had never heard of them despite living in New York his entire life. Magnus had been everywhere. He grown up in Seattle, but travelled his first summer out of high school to San Francisco and even lived in Las Vegas for a short amount of time. He went to school first in Flagstaff for undergrad, but then Providence for graduate school and his doctorate. Magnus had studied abroad in Cambodia and Vietnam, and celebrated Catarina’s thirtieth birthday in Prague. It didn’t matter what Magnus it was, Alec felt enthralled by the other man. 

Before he had even realized it, the night had faded away, and Alec found himself being woken up by a bright ray of sunlight peeking through the window to the office. Magnus was awake too, but groggy, his head resting on Alec’s chest. Alec sucks in a sharp breath, and Magnus springs forward, standing up too quickly. He catches himself on the desk.

“Did we...” Alec starts to ask. He checks the time; it was almost seven in the morning. “We didn’t... uh...” 

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating...” Magnus says. “But I assure you, we just simply ran out of energy last night.” Alec sits forward on the couch, collecting himself. “I don’t normally sleep in my office. But...” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says. He forces himself up. “You know... I didn’t mind the busy work,” he continues. “The filing, I mean. If the offer still stands.” 

Magnus smiles. “Of course,” he walks around his desk and pulls out his wallet. He holds out a fifty-dollar bill. “For last night,” he says. “I’ll talk to  Ragnor .- Dr. Fell- and let him know. I expect I’ll be able to get the details to you this evening.”

Alec takes the money, and their hands brush together. “I look forward to it,” he says, before bidding the other man goodbye. 

Within the week after Alec’s mother called the website, Max and Isabelle had taken to keeping him busy. Max went out of his way to be with his older brother, even if it meant they just sat in Alec’s bedroom together. Alec would listen to music while Max did his homework. It was music that Max had never listened to. Old indie tracks that Simon liked, or the pop punk that Jace had liked. There wasn’t much music Alec liked that he found by himself.

Isabelle preferred to get him out of the house. She dragged him on her errands. Grocery shopping. A dress fitting. As they walked down the sidewalk, Isabelle leads him in the direction of her apartment. “I left my wallet at work,” she says. 

“I hope this isn’t an act to get me to go to the gym,” Alec says. They had discussed it before, but even though Alec enjoyed running, he didn’t want the pressure of being around other people. 

“My offer still stands. I can get you into my classes for free,” Isabelle says. “They’re fun. I mix  Pilates with high intensity interval training.  You won’t even notice the thirty minutes go by.” 

“No.” 

“Fine,” Isabelle says. “But it is true. My wallet is sitting in my locker. It’ll only take a minute.” 

After a short subway trip, they reach the building. All of the windows are glass, exposing every person running on the treadmill. Alec thought it might be scary, seemingly running toward a busy street. He follows Isabelle up the stairs. Several people wave at her and stop for a short conversation. He knew she had barely worked there for a year, but his sister had always been well liked. It was a trait she had that he despised. 

The gym was tiered, with different features on each floor. Isabelle worked on the top floor, where most of the classes were held. Alec felt out of place. He was nearly underweight, making him smaller than most of the other men they walked past. Everyone else was in tight fitting clothes, while he still wore layers despite the days becoming hotter in the spring.

Alec chose to sit on a bench outside the locker room while Isabelle went inside. He watched a few people walk by; their clothes stained with sweat. As he looks forward, he eyes fall on another man. At first, he doesn’t recognize him. It’s not until they make eye contact that Alec’s mind puts it together.

The last time he saw Simon, he was crying in the court room as Alec and Jace were being escorted out. His suit was a disgusting plaid, dark green, picked out by his mother. He let his hair grow out to his shoulders, wavy with split-ends. But when the trial happened, he had gotten a buzz cut that made his ears look too big for his head. Now, Simon stood in front of Alec, sweaty and red-faced. His muscles were much larger, visible under his tight shirt. He looked polished, with a well-kept hair cut that just barely fell into his forehead. His skin was smooth, clear of the acne scars he had years ago. Alec could see stubble, something Simon would have killed for in high school.

Simon stops in front of Alec, his eyes wide and eyebrows narrowed. Alec can see the other man’s lip quivering, like he wanted to say something. Alec stares up at him, feeling his chest start to yearn for something, but he didn’t know what it was. As they look at each other, Simon’s hand becomes weak, and he drops a sweat-soaked towelette on the marble floor. Alec can see his chest start to rise and fall quicker and quicker. As Isabelle’s heels can be heard coming from the  lockeroom , Simon turns down the hallway and walks away, his back to Alec. 

_ Sebastian mixes his cold cup of ramen noodles while Alec wraps his blanket around his shoulders. As he sucks one of the thin noodles up into his mouth, Alec turns around and purses his lips. “Alexander,” he says, the tone of his voice high pitched. “How do you expect me to leave the house with you in something with a wrinkle?” At the last word, he makes a face with wide eyes. Sebastian laughs. “Do you want me to have an  _ _ aneurism _ _?”  _

_ “No way,” Sebastian says. “She is not that strict. A wrinkle? Come on.”  _

_ “You don’t understand how uptight Maryse Lightwood is,” Alec says. The blanket falls from on top of his head, draping over his shoulders. “She told all of her colleagues I would be taking over their company by the time I was thirty. After attended Harvard Law, of course.”  _

_ “My parents were happy enough I finished high school,” Sebastian says. “I even surprised myself.” He hands the cup of ramen over to Alec, who takes his turn mixing the cold noodles around. Some of them were still crunchy. _

_ “You’re lucky,” Alec says, his face falling.  _

_ “I can see the drama,” Sebastian says. “Rich heir to successful company, beloved son of New York socialites disgraced from the public. What will-”  _

_ “If you finish that sentence, I will dump this cup down the back of your shirt,” Alec threatens. Sebastian knew that Alec didn’t like talking about his family, unless he was poking fun at them. It helped them pass the time, and entertained Alec, who never felt welcome trying to watch television with other inmates when they were allowed.  _

_ “Okay, okay,” Sebastian says. “You know...” he starts, his demeanor suddenly changing. “When I graduated high school, my dad cried. He thought I was such a lost cause. I kind of am, I guess,” he says, gesturing to his jump suit. “And I... I always think about that family, you know. How excited they would have been when the kid was graduating high school. And they won’t get to see it all because I got mad at my girlfriend at a party and decided to drive home that night.” Alec looks at the other boy, and wraps himself tighter in the  _ _ paper-thin _ _ blanket. “What is wrong with me?”  _

_ In the back of his mind, Alec hears a gunshot, and a scream. He still couldn’t remember who screamed. If it was him or not. He remembers looking at himself in the reflection of the window. He remembers a red puddle and the sound of sobbing. “Nothing,” Alec chokes out.  _

_ Sebastian shakes his head. “You’re just saying that.”  _

_ “It was a mistake,” Alec says. “And you’re doing time for it.”  _

_ “Doing time isn’t going to bring back someone’s parents,” Sebastian says.  _

_ “It’s all you can do,” Alec says. _

_ “It’s not enough.”  _

_ “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”  _

_ Outside the bunk, they could hear the correctional officers yelling that it was time for a check. Sebastian kisses Alec on the cheek before heading toward his own bed. Alec quickly shoves his blanket back onto his mattress, before stepping out and standing with the other men. He stands against the wall with his hands at his sides. One of the officers walks past him to inspect the bunk, and he clenches his fists to distract himself. When the man is finished, he walks out with a cell phone he had pulled from one of Alec’s bunk mates.  _

_ “Did you know about this?” The guard asks Alec, who shakes his head. “Are you sure? You weren’t calling crying to your family about how horrible your life is?” _

_ “No,” Alec says, his voice soft. _

_ The officer shoves Alec into the wall, pressing down on his chest. His fingers dig into Alec’s skin with a sharp pain. “Just checking,” the officer says, and then he lets him go. Two of the other officers approach the inmate who had the cell phone, and take him to the ground. When he lands, the front of his face hits the ground, knocking one of his teeth out. The blood splatters onto the floor, just a few drops. One of the officers kicks the man in the side as the other hand cuffs him. Alec watches with wide eyes as he’s dragged out of the block, leaving the few drops of blood.  _

_ One of the officers tosses a wet rag at Alec, and he barely catches it. “Clean this up,” he says, gesturing to the blood. Alec nods, slowly, and gets on his knees to wipe up the drops. As he scrubs the blood away, his mind becomes flooded with the recurring sounds of screaming and gunshots. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!!! I really enjoy all the feedback.


	6. I Know Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for sexual themes

“You’re hiding again,” Dr.  Garroway says.

“What?” 

“We make progress. But then, something happens, and you start to clam up again. You know, two steps forward, one step back. What happened?” 

“Nothing happened.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Dr.  Garroway continues. “It might be a little late to say this... but... you know you can talk to me.”

Alec scoffs. “I don’t know,” he says. Dr.  Garroway raises his eyebrows. “Fine. I’m confused.”

“Confused.” 

“Magnus Bane,” Alec says. “Can I even talk about him? Aren’t you friends?” 

“We’re acquainted, yes. But only because of mutual friends. And anything you say is safe with me. It’s confidential.”

Alec sighs. “The other day... these two students walked in while I was helping. And they started to ask me about school. They thought I was another student. I didn’t know what to say. I felt embarrassed, I guess. And Magnus interrupted.” 

“I think you may be over thinking this.”

“I thought that too. But now I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Then it was significant,” Dr.  Garroway says. 

“I think he did it on purpose,” Alec says.

“From what I know about Magnus, he is very insightful. He sensed that you were uncomfortable and interfered so you wouldn’t have to answer.”

“But why?” 

“You should ask him that.” 

“Absolutely not.”

Dr.  Garroway stands up and walks to his desk, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “I know that you have been... rehabilitating for the last few months. In fact, it’s almost been six months, hasn’t it?” Alec nods. “But, how many people have you interacted with since then? Excluding your family, and employees when you rarely go out in public.” Alec opens his mouth to answer, but is interrupted. “And the people you tutored. Because knowing you there was no real conversation.”

Alec sighs. “No one. Except Magnus, mostly.” 

“Exactly,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Look, I understand your embarrassment. It can be intimidating being around people you don’t know. But, as cheesy as it may sound, you just need to be yourself.” He walks over with two cups of coffee, and hands one to Alec. “This is good. It gives you a chance to have a life away from your family and make friends. Just go at your own pace. You don’t have to walk in and announce anything you don’t want to.” They sit in silence for a moment while Alec drinks his coffee. As he feels his throat start to burn, he puts the mug down the coffee table. He rests his elbow on his knee and runs his hand through his hair. “Talk to me.” 

“You said to be myself,” Alec says, his voice almost a whisper. He feels himself starting to panic.

“That upset you,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says.

“Alec,” 

“It’s just... I guess, I don’t really... know what myself is. Anymore.”

Dr.  Garroway’s face softens. “That’s not true, Alec.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Readjusting to your environment after being stripped of your identity for so long is difficult. It is going to take a long time for you to feel like yourself again. You shouldn’t feel pressured to be someone you’re not.” 

“What do you mean ‘someone I’m not?’”

“Alec... You’re a different person than you were before. You’ve been through a lot. You aren’t going to just... bounce back to being who you were before. As you continue readjusting, you’re going to figure out who you are again.” Alec rolls his eyes and picks up his mug again. 

Alec wasn’t sure what happened between his parents since his father returned. Maryse and Robert had gotten into a screaming match, and his father had been missing since. Max had taken it upon himself to snoop around in their room and informed Alec that their father’s clothes were missing.

Maryse was on the phone a lot throughout the week, but never disclosed who she was talking to. It reminded Alec of when he was younger and her parents were closing a deal. They would work day and night, and leave Alec to watch his siblings. Even though he would always be annoyed that he had to make sure Max didn’t eat something he shouldn’t and keep Isabelle out of their mother’s makeup cabinet, it did create some of his fondest memories with his siblings. He always enjoyed sneaking snacks that were only for parties and smashing Max’s  Lego creations when he was done. 

Often, Alec found himself lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He would get lost in his memories for hours. Sometimes, when he opened his eyes, he would be convinced that he was in high school again. Or worse, in his bunk.

Max and his mother were arguing about a test he almost failed, and Isabelle wasn’t returning his calls. Trying to distract himself from their argument, Alec found himself staring at one of the posters on his wall. It was mostly black and white, with the faces of screaming women getting their arms bit staring back at him. In green letters it read  _ Night at the Living Dead,  _ one of the first movies Jace introduced him and Simon to when they first met. 

Jace was on a scholarship at their private school, making him an instant outcast. Everyone else had been going to school together since they were children. But when he appeared freshman year, he was an instant attraction to the rich kids who had lived in seclusion their entire lives. Simon and Alec were two of them. While Maryse and Robert didn’t keep track of what media their children consumed, it was made clear from a young age that there were expectations. They had to dress in pressed clothing, keep everything tidy, and always act with manners. Their friends had to be in same social circle. The type of people who traveled every holiday and had money in the right places.

But Jace was different. He had never left New York. He wore used clothes, but still made them look stylish. When he wore an old denim jacket to school, by the next week several other people in their class had one. He was naturally charismatic, although he would later confess to his friends that it was all a front to make sure he fit in with the other students. The friendlier he was, the easier it was for them to forget that he lived in an apartment the size of their living rooms.

At first, Simon and Alec went unnoticed by the other boy. They usually went unnoticed by everyone. They dressed plainly. Even at age fourteen, Maryse was still picking out Alec’s clothes for him. In the lunch room, Simon, who was still adjusting to his recent growth spurt, tripped over his own feet. His food went flying into one of the popular girl’s face, staining her pressed white blouse. She screamed that Simon was an idiot, and half the cafeteria erupted in laughter as Simon struggled to apologize. As Alec helped his friend up, they both noticed that Jace was laughing the loudest. But it wasn’t at Simon’s expense. He was laughing at the girl. Later that day, they stood at the same traffic light together after school. Now, Alec wished the light never turned red. 

Hastily, Alec stands up and walks toward the wall of his bedroom. He reaches up and tears down the poster. It rips in half, and he throws the pieces onto the floor. Then, he moves on to the rest of his room, tearing down all of the music and movie posters he had collected as a teenager. He feels tears start streaming down his cheeks. Once the walls are bare, he moves to his desk, digging through each drawer. He pulls out every notebook he had saved with class notes. 

For a moment, he flips through one, and he finds a string of notes. He recognizes the handwriting. One was sharp, the led pressed into the paper harder than it should have been. Alec’s own handwriting. The other was messy, barely legible almost, the letters scrawled and spaced too far apart. Jace. 

_ Dad’s been out for days. _

_ R u good?  _

_ Come over.  _

_ I can’t.  _

_ Do it anyway. _

He remembered that night. The first time he had ever hung out with Jace alone. They had hung out at Jace’s apartment, where he had been home alone for days while his father was off on one of his benders. They had smoked weed while watching movies for hours. Jace would talk about movies nonstop. He wanted to make them one day.

Alec throws the notebook on the floor along with everything else. He digs everything out of his desk until it’s empty, and then he slams all the drawers. He feels his breathing start to pick up as he moves on to his closet. The hangers are loud as they hit the wooden floor, and a few seconds later he hears the door open, creaking. 

“Alexander?” His mother asks, peaking her head in. She watches as her son pulls open his drawers and pulls out several pairs of pants and throws them onto the floor. “Alec? What are you doing? What is this mess?”

“Why did you keep all of this here?” Alec asks, looking over at his mother, his gaze distant. 

“What do you mean, honey?”  Mayrse asks. “It’s your stuff, I wanted it to be the same when you got back.  So you would be comfortable.” 

“But it’s not... it’s not...” he takes a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking.”

Maryse guides him to the bed and they sit down together. She rests her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it. “Alec, I... I’ll call Dr. Garroway.” 

“No,” Alec says. “I don’t want to talk to him.” He looks down at the floor, at the mess he made of his room. It hadn’t been this cluttered since he was a child. They sit in silence for a moment, and Alec focuses on his mother’s touch on his shoulder. Whenever he got nervous, he heard the sound of a gunshot and when he closed his  eyes, he saw a red puddle of blood at his feet. 

“Alec, please, talk to me, I-”

“Forget it,” Alec snaps. He stands up and walks out of the room to get a trash bag. When he returns, his mother is still sitting on the bed, looking at the floor. Hesitantly, he starts cleaning up the pile, feeling his mother staring at him.

“So,” his mother continues, changing the subject. She always did. “Have you been taking your pills like Dr.  Garroway told you to? The right dose?” 

“I know you check the bottle every day,” Alec says. He crumples up a piece of a poster and shoves it into the bag. “ So, I don’t need to answer that.” 

Maryse purses her lips and sighs. “Your father is staying at a hotel,” she says. “I kicked him out.” 

“Why?” Alec asks. 

Before she answers, Maryse joins her son on the floor, helping him clean up the mess. “We love each other very much. Like I’ve said before, we make great business partners. But business only works if it’s built on trust.” 

“You don’t trust him?” 

“Not at this moment, no,” Maryse says. “I know you don’t either.” 

“What do you mean? I love Father.” 

“He’s harsh on you,” Maryse says. “His first-born son. You’re supposed to be the heir to the Lightwood name.” Alec clenches his jaw. “Your father loves you. You children are what he loves the most out of everything in the world. But his way of showing it is by buying you ski trips to the Rocky Mountains and paying extra for an apartment with one of the best views in Manhattan.” Alec collects the last ripped up piece of the posters into the bag. “Alec... I have accepted that you won’t talk to me. You don’t want to talk to me. And I understand that. But it doesn’t mean that I can’t see when something is going on. All of this,” she gestures to the trash bag. “These are just material items. It’s not who you are. My therapist and I have been discussing identity recently... I know that you’re having a hard time figuring out who you are. I want you to know that I love you, regardless of who that person may be.” 

Alec wants to accept what his mother is saying. She was with him, her knees on the floor, helping him pick up a mess he made because he let his emotions make him impulsive. Since the family therapy session, Maryse had been reaching out constantly. He could see her straining herself, trying so hard to reach out to him. His mind drifts back to that moment on the train platform. It was impulsive, but he had a feeling that he might find himself in that position again. Not soon, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened. And when it did, he didn’t want his mother to have to deal with it. 

“You’ve never known me,” Alec mutters. “I know you think you do, or thought you did, I don’t know. But you don’t know who I really am. And you never will. I’m sick of you trying to, because I don’t want to hear it. I’ll never be the perfect son that you always wanted.” He stands up with the trash bag. “I need some air. Don’t call me.” 

“Alec,” Maryse follows him toward the door. “Alexander, please. I want to talk about this.” 

“I don’t,” Alec says. He swings the door open with force, and the handle slams against the wall. 

“Alec, please, I know this isn’t what you really want,” Maryse says. “This is just your mental illness.”

“You don’t get to make assumptions about anything I’m feeling,” Alec responds. “You don’t know anything about how I’m feeling.” 

“I talked to your therapist,” Maryse says. “He explained to me how depression and borderline personality disorder work, Alec.” Alec looks at his mother, clenching his fists. He doesn’t say anything, he just walks out the door with the bag. As he stomps down the hallway, he finds himself wishing that his mother would be trailing behind him, but instead he just hears the door close.

Once he throws away the bag, he starts walking the streets, trying to calm himself down. The longer he walked, the more he found himself yearning for a release to what he was feeling. He stops in front of a liquor store, seeing his reflection in the window. The neon blinking sign lit up his face, a bright green and pink. It reminded him of the parties Jace used to take him and Simon to, at apartments owned by people they didn’t know. Older people, who had shrooms and  ecstasy. Alec longed to be at one of those parties now, where he could lose himself instead of handling the irrational  anger he was feeling toward his mother.

Without thinking, Alec turns away from the store and starts walking down the street. He looks at the street numbers, and makes his way to a building he had been to numerous times before. It looks the same, aside from the flowers outside the lobby being replaced with a stone statue. The doorman steps in front of him to stop him. Alec knew he looked different than the people who lived in the  building. “Hey, I’m sorry, this building is private.” 

“No, I...” Alec looks around for a moment. “I’m visiting one of the tenants.” 

“Yeah, right,” the doorman says. “I’ve never seen you before. I need you to leave.” 

“I’ve been here before,” Alec says. The doorman shakes his head and puts up his arm, blocking Alec from the door. “I’m being serious, I-” 

“He’s with me,” a voice says from behind them. Alec turns around, seeing Simon, out of breath, wearing sweat stained clothes.

The doorman looks between the two and then steps aside. “Welcome back from your jog, Mr. Lewis,” he says. He gives Alec another confused look as the two men walk into the building. Simon doesn’t say anything as they go up to the apartment. In the elevator, Alec stares down at the floor, trying to come up with an excuse about showing up unprompted. In the past, when he couldn’t handle his family, he would walk to Simon’s apartment and they would play video games or skate in the park for hours. Simon’s family was similar to Alec’s. They were rich, his mother was a prominent  attorney in the city, but everything was different. Simon was free to be who he was without judgement. His mother and sister encouraged Simon’s interests, and welcomed Alec without question. Their image wasn’t the main priority in the household, and Alec had always been jealous of that. 

“My mother is out of town and my sister moved out,” Simon says as he opens the door. Alec felt lucky that Simon still lived at the apartment. He was half expecting to be welcomed by Simon’s mother, who he knew didn’t want anything to do with him. As they enter the apartment, another man is sitting on the couch, reading a book. Alec had never seen him before. He was shorter than Simon and Alec, with dark, neatly kept hair and a tan complexion. His gaze was dark, and when the two men walked in, he looked up, immediately making eye contact with Alec. It was the type of look that reminded Alec of Rikers. It felt like the man was analyzing Alec, trying to gage if he was a threat or not. “This is Raphael. He lives in Rebecca’s old room.” 

“You must be Alec,” Raphael says, standing up. He was dressed formally, in a fitted button-up silk shirt and dress pants. “I recognize you from the photos on Simon’s computer.” Alec shifts where he stands, starting to regret his decision to walk over.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Simon says, his tone soft, as it always was. Physically, Simon actually intimidated Alec, considering how buff he had gotten since he last saw him. He wasn’t the scrawny, nerdy kid that Alec was expecting. Since that day in court, Alec had expected to never see him again. “Raphael...” 

“I can read the room,” Raphael says. “I’ll disappear.” He walks to the back of the apartment and Alec hears a door close. A few seconds later muffled music begins to play, a classical piece Alec had heard before. 

“Have you told anyone?” Simon asks, sitting down on the couch. It was the same couch he had growing up, and Alec’s mind drifted back to the hours they used to spend playing video games on it.

Alec didn’t have to ask to know what the other man was talking about. “No.” 

They sit in silence for a minute. “Are you telling the truth?” Simon asks. 

“Yes,” Alec says. “I...” 

“When I heard you got out I... I wasn’t sure what to expect,” Simon says. “I thought maybe you might...” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Alec says. “It’s too late anyway. I already did my time.”

“I wanted to visit you,” Simon admits. Alec looks over at him, his eyes wide. “I wanted to... I swear, but my mom wouldn’t let me. And my therapist told me it might not be the best idea, and then the next thing I knew it had been years, and it was too late, and-” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says. “I... I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it anyway.” 

“How was it?” Simon asks. 

“What?” 

“Prison.” 

Alec sighs. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “I...” 

“It’s okay, if you don’t,” Simon says. “I... If you can... I just... I’ve been to rehab three times,” he says. “For heroin, under court order. Then for coke, twice. I’ve been in therapy for over six years, and I... I always watch these,” he steps forward and opens a cabinet under the television. It holds several DVDs, all labeled differently in Simon’s handwriting. “All the footage of us. You, me... and Jace.” He picks out a few and hands them to Alec. “You can take these.”

“No, Simon,” Alec says, but he takes them in his hands anyway. “These are yours. I shouldn’t have come here  unannounced , I-” 

“I miss you,” Simon interrupts. “I miss Jace, too. I still talk to him on the phone, sometimes. But he barely calls anymore.” Alec looks down at the floor. “Have you talked to him? Since...” 

“No,” Alec answers. “It’s not a good idea.” 

“That’s not true,” Simon says. “Alec... in rehab, I... I figured something out. There’s only two other people that truly know how you feel,” he says. “Me, and Jace. It’s the same for me. Only you and Jace know how I feel. And only you and me truly know how Jace feels.”

“You got to be out here,” Alec says. “While I had to... rot in a cell. For six years. And Jace has to do it for life.” Simon’s face falls, and he looks away from Alec. “You know... I.... I’ve been pushed against the wall so hard by guards that my chest was bruised. And I...” 

“You don’t have to prove it to me,” Simon interrupts. “I know how much harder you and Jace have it than I did. I think about it every day.” Alec takes a deep breathe. He wanted to be angry at Simon. But even now, years later, being around his formal friend made him feel calm. “You know... that girl, the daughter, started high school this year. I found her Facebook. I know it’s weird... But, I just...” 

“Don’t talk about it,” Alec mutters. “That’s what we promised each other.” 

“I know,” Simon says. “I have a... semi-bad idea...”

Alec stared in awe as Raphael blew out the smoke from his lips, his eyes already fading to red. The bong was small, with an obnoxious tie-dye pattern on the side. As soon as Simon got it out, Alec felt immediately pulled to it. He was almost done with his parole. His parole officer said it was because of his good behavior, but he knew his father had something to do with it. The meetings had gotten shorter, and she hadn’t tested him for drugs in weeks.

Raphael passes the bong to Alec, who takes it gently. He takes a deep breath before pressing it to his mouth and inhaling. It burns his throat, but it felts good. When he’s finished, he closes his eyes, and in his mind, he pictures Jace and Simon in high school, all laughing in the back of Jace’s car. Simon takes the bong back, and finishes it off. Alec coughs and leans back on the couch. 

He was still waiting for his body to start to feel the effects, but it was clear that Simon and Raphael were already feeling looser. Raphael’s demeanor completely changed, he was swaying back and forth and laughing at everything Simon said. Alec didn’t know much about their dynamic, but he felt an immediate jealousy. That Simon had replaced his best friend. He knew it was irrational, they hadn’t spoken for six years, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Do you remember when Jace stole that security guard’s handcuffs?” Simon asks, placing the bong next to him. “And the guy chased him all the way down the mall?” 

Alec laughs, feeling his body starting to relax. “He ran so fast,” Alec says. “We had to meet him in the parking lot.” 

“His face was super red,” Simon says, “He looked so... stupid,” he laughs, and it’s contagious.

Alec leans over himself laughing, feeling giddy. He missed the feeling, and now that he finally had it, he was already starting to feel better about his argument with his mother. Slowly, he forgot about the argument he had with his mother, and the videos on the website, and how he hadn’t seen his father in over a week. It wasn’t the same as the other drugs he had done, but it was something. “Jace always looked stupid,” he said. “So stupid, all the time,” he continues. “His hair was always slicked back like... like a greaser, dude,” he pushes his hair back, out of his face. Raphael and Simon continue laughing. “And he dressed like it was fucking... 1997. And he... he was always cracking jokes, they were so stupid...” his voice lowers, and he stops laughing. “He’s so stupid.” 

Simon looks between Alec and Raphael. Raphael picks up the bong and weed and steps out of the room. “I know,” Simon says. He takes a deep breath, and when Alec looks up, they make eye contact. “He’s an idiot...” they sit in silence for a moment, but this time, it’s a comfortable silence. “You know, I have an associate's degree in computer science. He... he....” Simon takes another deep breath, and Alec suddenly felt sober. “All I have is an associate’s degree. And I don’t even use it. I work at a smoothie bar.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” Alec says. “Rehab... three times?” 

“After you and Jace... left... I was alone,” Simon says, his voice quiet. “No one at school would talk to me. Unless they were calling me names... junkie... I’m sure you can imagine. They made me go cold turkey the first time, since the judge ordered it. But... I made friends there. Other rich kids who had too much fun. It’s how I met Raphael. I never thought I would have friends after...” Simon shifts, crossing his legs. He reaches forward, resting his hand on Alec’s knee. It felt like they were teenagers again. But then Alec closes his eyes, and all he sees is a pool of blood and feels handcuffs on his wrists. It was then that they realized they weren’t children anymore. “Do you miss him?” Simon asks, a whisper. 

Alec crosses his arms over his knees and leans forward, his face inches from Simon’s. “I fucking hate him,” he says, whispering too. “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have dropped my grades. I wouldn’t have smoked weed, or dope. I wouldn’t have gone to prison. Without Jace, my life would be normal.” He hears Simon suck in a short breath through his nose. “But sometimes...” Alec continues, his voice barely audible. “He’s all I can think about. Sometimes I would give anything to be sitting next to him again. Sometimes all I can hear is his laugh, in my thoughts. He’s always in my head. He always was. He has been since the moment I saw him for the first time in the hallway.” Simon’s hand squeezes Alec’s knee, and then he pulls it away. 

“Being around you makes me feel...” Simon starts as he leans back into the cabinet. “When I heard you got out... I stayed up for three days. I couldn’t let myself sleep, because I knew I would have nightmares. I’m still... tempted... but I know if I use again, I won’t come out of it.”

“I make you want to use?” Alec asks.

“Isn’t it the same for you?” Simon asks.

Alec doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks around the room. All of the old pictures of Simon and Alec from their youth are gone. 

Ragnor Fell was an eccentric man. He dressed in dark colors, often ill-fitting suits with ties decorated in swirling patterns or zig-zags. Most of the time, he told Alec what he would be doing that day, and then leave him alone until the early afternoon, when Alec could be dismissed. But sometimes,  Ragnor found himself on a tangent, and would hold Alec for nearly an hour discussing his theory on a certain time in history. Or, worse, he would complain about one of the professors at Columbia who had apparently betrayed him by taking a job in their department instead. Although overbearing, Alec could see how passionate he was about his job. It was surprising to him that the professor would retire at all.

“You see, Mr. Lightwood, as humans we must balance how we act in the world,”  Ragnor says to Alec midway through his second week on the job. “According to Plato’s theory on the tripartite soul, there are three facets to humanity.  Thumos is easy to understand. No matter what, neurotypical or not, you will experience anger. And happiness. And sadness. Even the people of history have felt emotions to an extent, even if it was for an immoral reason.” Alec nods, and continues organizing a stack of academic journals he had been given that morning. “Logos, reason, is more arguable. I often ask myself; do we need reason in a world controlled by higher power? The government, of course. Not any fictional being you may worship. Even if you wanted to, say, act without reason and murder someone on the street for no reason, the people around you would hold you accountable somehow. You can’t escape reason, although I do believe we are passed its prime.” 

“You were born in the wrong decade,” Magnus says from the coffee machine. Alec had memorized his schedule the week before. He wouldn’t show up until close to 10, tired from his 8 a.m. freshman lecture of one-hundred students. His open office hours lasted until noon, when he would leave for his lunch break and then disappear for the rest of the afternoon. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Alec would hope to get extra work from  Ragnor , just so he would be around when Magnus got back from his last class. “Just like a teenager girl longs to be an 80s child, you long to be in ancient Rome dying from untreated Malaria.”

“I don’t have the energy to respond to that right now,”  Ragnor says, glaring at Magnus. “Anyway... I believe as a society, we have become enthralled by the hands of epithumia. Our desires overwhelm us. It’s amazing what an appetite can do to someone. Fast food. Smoking. Alcohol. I often imagine what society would be like if we could control our desires.” 

“Boring at best,” Magnus says, walking over to the table. Although he made an effort to talk to Alec, it was usually only for a short period of time. He rests his hip on the edge of the table, leaning on it. He was dressed for the hot day, in a neatly pressed floral button-up that revealed just the top of his clavicle. HIs pants were khaki, fitted just the right way. “Do you really want to live in a world without desire,  Ragnor ? What use would your favorite little Italian place have? Or the cigars in your desk drawer?” He sips his coffee from the same faded museum mug Alec remembered from weeks ago. “And, I’m sure you spend every night in your bedroom simply just... sleeping in your bed.” 

Ragnor rolls his eyes and stands up from the table. “Spring break is upon us,” he says. “You’re stressed, Magnus. I can tell. It’s when you’re the most unsufferable.” 

Magnus places the mug on the table, next to Alec’s hand. He can feel the heat radiating off of it. “My students will not stop talking about all the beautiful places they are going to that week,” he says. “Maui. Bora Bora. Paris.”

“Albany is just as fun as those places,” Ragnor says. 

“As admirable as The Egg is,” Magnus says. “I’ve seen it several times now.” 

“You’ve also seen the Metropolitan several times,”  Ragnor says. “And the Empire State Building... and Central Park... Besides, the conference is going to be such fun.” 

“You’re only saying that because you get to speak on the panel,” Magnus says. “Second to Lorenzo, of course.” 

Alec hears a gasp, and looks over to see Aline and Helen sitting at one of the couches. “Not he-who-shall-not-be-named,” Aline says. 

Ragnor grits his teeth. “I’ll have my usual today,” he says, and walks into his office, slamming the door. 

Magnus sits down next to Alec. “You’re holding up surprisingly well,” he says. “Most people get tired of  Ragnor the first day and don’t return for the second. I love history. But even I can only handle him for a short period of time.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Alec says. “I’ve been through much worse.”

Magnus shrugs. “Well, you look like you could use a break anyway. I could use some help bringing back lunch for everyone.”

“Oh, I kind of...” Alec starts, looking at the stack of files. He wasn’t even halfway done. “Sure,” he says. 

The campus was busy, bustling with groups of students moving classes. Several tables were set up in the courtyard, advertising different causes and clubs. As they walked, several students waved at Magnus, smiling. Alec felt out of place, like by looking at him, they could tell he didn’t belong there. When they arrived in a long line for burritos, Magnus turned to him. 

“So... have you decided what your next move is? Since you passed your test.” 

Alec looks past the other man, his eyes falling on a small group of students kicking around a soccer ball. “I’m not sure yet...” he says.

“Well, whatever you do choose, if it’s school related, I can help you. A letter of recommendation can go a long way.”

“I’m not so sure school is my strong suit,” Alec says. “I’m easily distracted.” 

“I have to disagree,” Magnus says. “You’re naturally bright, Alexander. Forgive me if I’m over stepping... but from my understanding, you went quite a long time without being in school. Yet in my class, you managed to remember most of the material, with a deep enough understanding to tutor other students. You shouldn’t sell yourself so short.” 

“Thank you,” Alec says, looking at Magnus. The other man’s hair blows slightly in the small breeze. “I guess... It’s hard to not want to give into stereotypes.” 

“I’ve been there,” Magnus says as they step forward in the line. “We all have at some point.” 

“I guess so,” Alec says. They were second in the line. 

“Do you want anything? My treat.” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” 

“I’m getting you something,” Magnus says. “Don’t worry about it. You need to eat more anyway.”

Alec shrugs and looks back at the soccer players. “Thank you,” he says. Once at the front of the line, Magnus orders while Alec just stands next to him. When they’re done, they walk to the waiting area, where Alec hears someone say his name. 

“Alexander?” a woman says, and when he looks over, he makes eye contact with Maia, the tattoo artists from two months prior.

“Maia,” he says, his eyebrows raised. She was standing with someone else, a tall, lanky man with wavy dark hair. Unlike her, Alec couldn’t spot any tattoos or piercings on his body. He was wearing a polo shirt and carrying a stack of text books with fish on the front.

“It’s been a while,” Maia says. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I was hoping I would get a call that you wanted another session so I could expand on your piece, if I’m being honest. I do some pretty good work.”

“Yeah...” Alec says. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.” 

“Can I see it?” Maia’s friend asks. “If you don’t mind. I love Maia’s work. I’m Bat, by the way. We’re in classes together.” He holds out his hand, and Alec takes it. As they shake hands, he notices the other man has a firm grip. As he pulls away, their fingers brush together. He holds his hand out to Magnus, too, who shakes it with a smile. 

“Dr. Magnus Bane,” he says, his tone more monotone than it was before. “I’m in the history department. How do you two know each other?” 

Alec pulls up his sleeve, revealing the stippled snake covering the skin on his forearm. “I’m Alec’s tattoo artist,” Maia says. “It healed nicely. We could add some, if you want. You’d look good with a sleeve.”

For a moment, Alec doesn’t answer. He pulls his sleeve back down, and looks between Maia and Bat. He knew his mother would be angry with him if he went back, the first tattoo already made her angry enough. But since he had been in contact with Simon again, he found himself feeling the need to defy his parents again, like he did as a teenager. “Sure,” Alec says. “We could talk about it.” 

“Awesome,” Maia says. “You still have my number. I’ll be expecting your call.” The employee at the burrito cart says her name, and she walks over to retrieve her order. 

“I can’t bring myself to go through the pain,” Bat says. “But watching Maia tattoo fascinates me. It’s amazing what she can do with just ink and a needle. I’ve always been a STEM person myself, but her art work is so amazing.”

Alec nods. “Yeah, I saw some of her work when I got it done.”

“She is right, you know,” Bat continues. “I think you would look good with a sleeve.” He and Alec make eye contact for a moment, and Bat smiles. It’s small, but Alec smiles back.

“Thanks,” he says. “That gives me a good reason to give my mother another heart attack.” Bat laughs

Maia walks back over, two burritos in her hands. “Well, we have class pretty soon, so we better get going. I’m studying to be a marine biologist. Tattooing is a great career. I always wanted to be an artist as a kid. It’s helping me pay for school, but my passion is in helping animals. I’ll come up with some ideas for your next piece.” Her and Bat bid their goodbyes just as Magnus’ order is finished. He quickly retrieves it, and he and Alec start walking back to the history department building. 

“You know, you are more... interesting than I thought you were,” Magnus says. Alec looks over at him, a confused look on his face. “I like to think that I’m good at reading people. I’ve been many places. I’ve met many people. It’s a skill I developed over time. But you’re different.” 

“What do you mean?” Alec asks. “I’ve never heard something like that before.” 

“You’re hard to read,” Magnus says. “There are more layers to you than it seems. I wouldn’t have guessed you had a badass snake tattoo on your arm.”

Alec laughs. “Yeah, it’s sort of a stupid story.” 

“I love stupid stories.” 

“I don’t know...” 

“Well, you mentioned it. You have to tell it.” 

They approach the building and walk into the elevator. “Fine...” Alec says. “There was this guy... uh... another inmate... who was giving me a hard time. He stole some stuff from me... pushed me around in the yard. And this guy... uh... a friend I had... convinced me that I would look more intimidating if I had a tattoo. So, I sat through someone give me a horrible stick and poke of what was supposed to be a snake. And it got infected afterward. When my mother saw it... years after I got it... she panicked and made me get it professionally done.” 

Magnus looks at Alec, his eyes wide for a moment. “Wow,” he says. "That is quite the backstory.” The elevator pings, and they walk down the long hallway back to the office. “I suppose it’s only fair that I share mine too, to make us equal.” He stops, and with one hand he untucks one side of his shirt and lifts it up, high enough to expose the side of his torso. Alec’s eyes wander from his waist band, up the outline of his hip bone to his toned obliques. On his ribcage, he had a tattoo of a sketch of a man in circle, drawn twice, once standing, and once with his limbs spread out. “It’s cliché, I know,” Magnus says. “A historian getting a tattoo of the  Vitruvian Man.” 

Alec clenches his jaw and Magnus readjusts his shirt. “I don’t even know what that is,” Alec admits. “But it looked good.” Magnus smiles, and they walk into the office with lunch for everyone. 

That weekend, Alec found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He opened the internet app, and then closed it, over and over. He sighs, and lies back on the bed. His mother had gone out, and he could hear Max playing one of his video games in the living room. He was loud, screaming over his microphone with his friends. Alec’s room was bare, the walls completely plain and the closet only full of the sweatpants and t-shirts he still wore. The bag of clothes Isabelle bought him still sat in the corner.

He leans back on the bed, sinking into the mattress. With a sigh, he opens up the internet app again, but stays on the homepage. He starts to type in a website familiar to him from his teenage years, but stops and frantically back spaces again. Alec flips his body around, lying face down on the mattress. The fabric made it hard for him to breath. He shoves himself back far enough that his legs hang off the bed, and he bends his knees, balancing himself. Straining his neck, he looks back up at his phone and types in the website again, this time clicking search.

Within a few seconds, several images of men pop up on the screen, bare naked. His eyes scan a few of the preview photos, falling on exposed backs and sweating faces. Just as he clicks on one of the videos, he uses his other hand and reaches down into his sweatpants, his hand resting still over the fabric of his underwear. Making sure his phone is on silent, he clicks play, and the video opens with two men, one lying on the bed, smirking at the camera, and the other putting lotion on his chest.

Immediately, Alec clicks out of the video and tosses his phone in the opposite direction. It hits the floor with a soft thud. He slides all the way down his bed, one hand still under the waist band of his pants, his knees hitting the floor. As he closes his eyes, the video footage of him and Andrew flashes through his mind. He bites his lip, hard enough that he can taste blood from the skin breaking, in order to stop himself from panicking.

After taking a few long, deep breaths, Alec opens his eyes again, staring out the window. The view was plain, the wall of the building next to his. He squeezes the side of the mattress, hard enough that his knuckles turn white, and he starts to move the hand in his pants, slowly. He hadn’t even thought about touching himself, much letting someone else touch him, since that day in the showers with Sebastian. He tries not to think about it, and tries to focus on moving his hand, slowly. Just as he starts to move his hand faster, the image of Magnus lifting up his shirt to show off his tattoo comes into his mind. For a moment, he pictures the other man’s side, how his body was lean, but still sculpted. Just as his hand naturally moves beneath his briefs, he hastily pulls his hand from under his pants and swings his body to sit on the floor. He adjusts his pants, making sure he’s decent again, and stares at the side of his closet until the sun goes down. 

“Your mother confessed to me that she told you your diagnoses,” Dr.  Garroway says at their next session, the beginning of the week. Alec had shifted to an evening session to accommodate for his hours at NYU. Instead of his usually continuous cups of coffee and tea, the therapist ate dinner. Mostly prepacked whole foods, but occasionally he would order out, like tonight. It was from a popular place with a logo that Alec recognized. Overly seasoned steak and a salad drowning in vinegar. “I don’t usually like to tell my patients for a long time. It can be over whelming to suddenly have a label for how you’re feeling.” 

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Alec says. “She told me in a fight.”

“It seems like you fight quite often,” Dr.  Garroway says. He struggles with a butter knife to cut the sirloin in front of him. Alec watches as the dull knife slowly tears through the meat.

“Don’t you have a steak knife?” 

“I don’t keep sharp objects in my office,” Dr. Garroway says. “I learned that the hard way.” 

“For your own safety.” 

“No. For your safety,” Dr.  Garroway looks over at his desk and sighs. “My second year in the field I left a client alone while I spoke to her parents. She found her way into my desk and slit her wrists with a pair of scissors. She ended up being okay, but after that I couldn’t risk it.” Alec crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. He watches as the other man takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. In all honesty, Alec didn’t know much about his therapist. He knew he had a fiancé who broke up with him, and that he frequented the gym. But other than that, there was a lot of mystery surrounding him. “So, what should we talk about today?” 

Alec had never been given the choice before. “I don’t know.”

“I have a few ideas,” Dr.  Garroway says. “But I can tell you have something on your mind.”

“I always have something on my mind.” 

“You are an overthinker, yes,” Dr.  Garroway stabs the butter knife into his steak again, and Alec can see the muscle he’s using to slice it. “How about we just pick one thing to work through. Something must have happened recently. Is your new job going okay? Or is Magnus overworking you? I know he-”

“No,” Alec interrupts, his voice louder than he meant it to be. Dr.  Garroway looks at him, raising an eyebrow. They sit in an awkward silence for a moment. “I mean... It’s just busy work. And Magnus isn’t my boss, technically. It’s  Ragnor Fell.” 

“...Right. But it’s okay? It’s peaceful? Not overwhelming?” 

“It’s fine. Most of the time I just listen to music and get the work done early.” 

“That’s good to hear. When you said you were taking a job, I was a little worried. I thought the commitment would be too much too fast. But it seems like it’s good for you.” 

“It’s a distraction,” Alec says. “Usually I just sit in the apartment all the time.” 

“I wasn’t worried about the work. That, I know you can do. It was the socializing that concerned me.” Alec shifts in his chair, resting his elbows on the arm rests. “I know your medication is helping, but it won’t completely stop you from your impulsive tendencies.” 

“I’m not impulsive,” Alec responds.

Dr.  Garroway lulls the conversation, chewing on a soggy piece of arugula. “Although we can contribute some of your past actions to your drug use,” he says. Alec spots part of the green leaf in his teeth. “Sometimes you act before you can think, Alexander. The state of Andrew Underhill’s jaw is evidence of that.” Alec looks away, over at the door. “But maybe we don’t share the same fear.” 

“I get it,” Alec says, still not looking at his therapist. “If someone says something that bothers me...” 

“Trigger,” Dr. Garroway says. “That’s the word.” 

“What?” 

“It’s more than someone bothering you, Alec. You have triggers. The first time we talked about Andrew Underhill you went to his apartment and assaulted him.” 

“Do you think I’m violent?” Alec asks. 

“Do you?” 

There’s a moment of silence. “I’m not going to beat anyone up again,” Alec says. “It was... it was the one time. And I barely remember it.” Dr.  Garroway places his silverware down and wipes his hands with a paper napkin. “I’m not a violent person. I don’t do that.”

“You’re talking about that night,” Dr.  Garroway says. “At the liquor store.”

Alec brings his knees up to his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “The daughter is fourteen now. Going into high school. Simon told me.” 

“You spoke to Simon?” Dr.  Garroway asks, surprised. “How was it? You should have told me.”

“He’s ripped now,” Alec says. “He goes to the gym Isabelle works at. When I knew  him, he could barely survive a game of kickball in gym class.”

“A lot of time has passed. You’re a lot different than you were back then too.”

“I know, but... it was weird. I wanted him to be... the same, I guess. When I saw him, I half expected to just sit down and play video games, or do homework.” 

“Old friends will do that to you.” 

“I relapsed.” 

“What?” 

“Not really. It was just weed.” 

“That is a drug, Alec.” 

“So is my  prescription . Weed is medicinal.” 

“I’m sure you used it medicinally,” Dr.  Garroway says snidely. He opens his notes and writes something down, the pen  aggressively scratching against the lined paper. 

“Are you going to tell my parole officer?” Alec asks.

“I should. I’m obligated to, by law. But... I won’t, this time. Only because I’m surprised and proud at the same time that you told me.” Dr.  Garroway says. “But you’re on thin ice, Alec. I’m serious. I know you don’t want to feel locked up again, but I’m not opposed to sending you to rehab if it happens again.” 

“I’m not addicted,” Alec says. “It was one time.” 

“It’s not that you use it. It’s why you use it. Did Simon pressure you? Is he still using other drugs?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Even just weed. I won’t get high.” Dr.  Garroway looks at him, his gaze narrow. “I’m serious.” 

“I trust you,” Dr.  Garroway says. “I do, Alec. I can make promises too.” 

When Maryse encouraged Max to go to his friend's house for the afternoon, Alec could tell she was trying to get him alone. He could tell Max knew too, judging by the confused look he received from his younger brother as he left. “How’s your new job going?” Maryse asks, sitting on the couch next to her eldest. 

“Fine,” Alec answers, shifting back against the side of the cushion, the furthest he could be from her. “Why did you kick Dad out?” Maryse looks at him, contemplating her answer. “I don’t want to sit through small talk, Mom.” 

Maryse slides her heels off her feet and brings her legs up under her on the cushion. “Alec... it’s complicated.”

“I thought you were great friends and business partners,” Alec says. “I don’t understand why you would separate now if Dad’s been cheating on  you for a long time.”

“It’s not cheating,” Maryse says. “I gave him permission to see other people. We both have the option.” 

“Then why don’t you see anyone? Are you seeing anyone?” Alec asks.

“No,” Maryse says. “I never have. But I don’t mind that he does. And we aren’t discussing me and your father’s love life anymore.” Alec shrugs and rolls his eyes. “The reason I kicked your father out is because... the videos of you... were uploaded from our IP address.” Alec’s gaze snaps over to his mother, and he feels a chill go down his spine. “And I know you didn’t upload them... did you?” 

Alec scoffs. “No, Mother, I did not upload my sex tapes from when I was seventeen.” He felt himself starting to feel sick at even the thought that his mother would think that of him. 

“I know you didn’t,” Maryse says. “I never once thought you did. Although, I do suspect who did.” 

“Father?” Alec asks, feeling his heartrate increasing. “Why would he-”

“Robert didn’t do it either,” Maryse says. “That, I am sure of. He loves you, Alec. He would never do something like that. I suspect his... lover. Camille Belcourt. Underhill must have uncovered something that she didn’t want him to. And she needed him to leave the city. But Robert wouldn’t believe me. We got in an argument, of course. And I told him to come back when his judgement isn’t clouded.” 

Alec shakes his head, and they sit in silence for a minute. He thinks back to their fight from a couple weeks before.  _ You’ve never known me.  _ After thinking for a moment, he gets up, and walks out of the room. When he returns, he’s holding the stack of DVDs Simon had given him. Maryse looks at him, concerned, as he puts one of them in and turns on the TV. On the screen, somewhat blurry footage of Alec and Jace skating down the street starts playing. He can’t remember exactly when it was, but when he sees himself on the screen, he notices how much more innocent he looked. His eyes were still surrounded by dark circles and his skin was irritated, but there was still the last bit of baby fat on his cheeks. 

On screen, Alec reaches forward and grabs onto the open window of a cab, using the speed to propel himself forward. Jace follows suit, and Simon is left lagging behind holding his small camera. Alec remembered he got it for his sixteenth birthday. Maryse and Alec sit in silence as the clips play, at first just footage of the three boys messing around together in the city. They joke around at the park, eat at one of the food trucks, and in one clip Jace dances with someone busking on the sidewalk. But then the footage changes, and Alec looks over and sees his mother sitting with her hand over her mouth. 

_ Jace leans forward on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His cheek was bruised a deep purple from an argument with his father. They were getting worse, more violent, but he constantly reassured Simon and Alec that he would be okay. The party outside the bathroom was just getting started as more people got drunk. One of the most popular kids had the house to himself that weekend and had promised to throw the biggest party of the year.  _

_ “ _ _ It _ _ kind of looks badass,” Jace says, gently touching the bruise. “I could just tell everyone I got in a fight.”  _

_ “And lost,” Simon says. “It’s pretty bad. Are you sure you don’t want to go get it checked out?”  _

_ “No, it’s fine. I’ve had worse,” Jace says. Simon looks over at Alec, shining the light of his camcorder in his face. Alec glares at his friend through the camera lens before looking back at Jace through his reflection in the mirror. Their eyes meet, just for a moment, before Alec looks down at the tile floor. “Fuck it, man. Let’s just let loose.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bag of powder. He opens it and pours some out on the edge of the sink before using his credit card to separate it into a couple lines. “Who’s first?”  _

_ When no one answers, Alec steps forward and leans down. In a moment, both of the lines are gone, and he stands up again, wiping his nose. He takes a deep breath and leans against the wall with a low thud. As Jace goes next, Alec looks up at the ceiling, trying to focus on himself. Once they’re done taking turns, and the bag is nearly empty, they walk out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the students for the party. While Jace smooth talks one of the girls, Simon and Jace watch from the sidelines. Simon whispers to Alec about everyone, mostly nonsense. Eventually, Alec feels himself go numb, and the rest of the night becomes hazy.  _

The screen moves on from the party to more clips of the boys messing around and talking. As it continues, there are a few points of Alec snorting something or smoking from Jace’s bowl. Some of it, Alec doesn’t remember at all, and he feels like he’s watching a movie, not images of himself. As the DVD comes to an end,  it shows an argument between Alec and Jace. 

“ _ She doesn’t know anything about you, Jace. You’re seriously just  _ _ going to _ _ ditch us here?”  _

_ “You’re fine. There are girls around, go hang out with one of them.”  _

_ “The whole reason we even came in the first place was because you wanted to go.”  _

_ “Then go home, I don’t care.” _

_ “Jace, she’s like thirty.”  _

_ “You’re just jealous that I get to experience the love of an older, experienced woman.” _

_ “Fine, whatever. Have fun ditching your friends.”  _

_ “I will. Gladly.”  _

_ “Come on, Simon. I want to get fucked up.”  _

The TV fades to black, revealing the reflection of Alec and his mother. In the black screen, he can see her sitting on her side of the couch, her mascara smeared from tears. She sits still, her hands clenching the armrest and the cushion. Alec looks over at her, holding his breath. They sit in silence for a while. Long enough that outside, Alec can hear the honking of the traffic increase as rush hour started. As he stares at his mother, he sees the tension in her shoulders, hunched up. Her gaze was dark, still staring at the dark TV, although tears still fell. Gently, Alec reaches over, resting his hand on hers, and they sit together until the sun sets over the city,  enveloping the living room with darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! sorry this took a little longer than the others but hopefully the next one will be out sooner!!


	7. The Only Thing

“Make sure you use the solution I gave you with the instructions I wrote down,” Maia says as she finishes covering Alec’s upper arm with the sterile bandage. “This took forever, and I don’t want to have to touch it up again for a long time.” Alec nods and looks down at his arm. He had scheduled the appointment and let Maia decide on what the next piece was. She had spent the entire afternoon, well into the evening, tattooing a realistic portrait of Medusa onto his upper arm. The shading behind it was dark, adding dimension to the colorless piece. It was big enough that it bled into the tattoo he already had, almost creating a full sleeve, aside from his shoulder. 

“Sure,” Alec says as he follows her to the front of the shop. His arm stung, but he didn’t mind the slight pain.

Standing at the front of the shop was Maia’s friend from school, Bat. He looked less put together than he did before, instead wearing a worn NYU t-shirt and gym shorts. As the girl at the front desk helped Alec pay for the work, Maia and Bat struck up a conversation. “You’ll be fine,” Bat says. “I’m the one who should be worried. I know I completely bombed the second portion of the test.” 

“She put material that we haven’t even studied yet on it,” Maia says. “The only reason I knew the answers is because I studied ahead. It’s not fair for her to do that to the other students.” 

“She’s weeding us out,” Bat says. “You exposed yourself as one of the nerds.”

“If you call me a nerd again, you’ll regret it,” Maia says, and Bat gestures to his mouth as if he is zipping it up. “I need a drink for sure.” Alec turns around, ready to thank the artist and get home before it was too late. “You in?” She asks. 

“For... what?” 

“We’re getting drinks at the Hunter’s Moon. It’s a bar down the street. You should come with us.” 

“Oh... I don’t know, I... don’t really drink.”

“Okay,” Maia says. “Then get a soda. My treat.”

The bar was busier than Alec thought it would be. He, Maia, and Bat sat at a small table in the corner, where he could watch the pool table from a distance. The group of men playing it were loud, joking with each other and sloppily spilling their beer on the worn wood floor. There was a game on the TV, and more often than not the bar patrons would yell over the score. The hectic environment made Alec fall into the background, but he still felt on edge. Every time the waitress walked by with a tray of  drinks, he felt the ache in his chest get worse. In front of him, Bat finished his second vodka soda, placing the cup still foggy from the ice.

“Jordan is still set on traveling over the summer,” Maia says before leaning back and drinking one of the whiskey shots that sat on the table in front of her. She sighs and leans forward, resting her arms on the table. “He wants to book all the tickets for two... but I have clients scheduled into June... and I’m considering taking some summer classes so I can graduate earlier.” 

“You let him pester you too much,” Bat says, leaning back in his chair. “He should be more independent anyway.” 

“What do you think?” Maia asks, turning to Alec. He stirs the ice in his mineral water with the straw. “Would you let your girlfriend travel alone for the summer?”

“I don’t know,” Alec says. 

“Wouldn’t you be worried that something would happen out of your control?”

“I guess,” Alec says. “But if you’re meant to be together... being apart wouldn’t ruin the relationship.” He tries to be generic. Giving advice made him feel uncomfortable, like he wasn’t qualified.

“That is a fair point,” Bat says. “But would you consider heat of the moment passion cheating?” Maia rolls her eyes and takes another shot. “I’m serious, Maia. Maybe living apart would be tolerable if you had an open relationship.” 

“I am not opening my relationship,” Maia says, her voice louder than before. “Relationship closed. Off limits. Absolutely not.” Bat laughs and shakes his head. “You cannot be serious.” 

“If you’re expecting it then it can’t hurt you,” Bat says. “Come on, Maia. Heat of the moment doesn’t mean anything. Not really, anyway.” 

“To you, maybe.”

“Let’s ask the mediator,” Bat looks over at Alec. “Is it unfaithful to give in to the heat of the moment? If it never happens again, and it’s all about physical attraction.” 

“I don’t know...” Alec starts. Maia and Bat looked at him intently, although he could tell the alcohol was getting to them by how their faces were flush and sweat was starting to build on their foreheads. “It sounds like cheating.” 

“Not cheating,” Bat says. He leans forward, and the table tilts slightly with the weight of his elbows. “Unfaithful. If you still are fully devoted to the person you love, is emotionless sex really that big of a deal?”

Before Alec can think of an answer, Maia cuts in. “Ignore him,” she says. “He took one philosophy class and thinks that he’s my personal counselor.” Bat opens his mouth to object, but Maia shushes him. “So, Alec... you were with Dr. Bane the last time we saw you. Are you studying history or something?” 

Alec shakes his head. “I work in the office,” he says. “As an assistant.”

“I did that for my work study freshman year,” Bat says. “It was mind numbing. I hated it.” 

“I don’t mind it,” Alec says. “It keeps me busy.” 

“Aren’t you rich?” Maia asks. “During your first session your mom was wearing  Prada . Why do you need a little minimum wage job?” 

Alec shrugs and sips his water. “I don’t want to be  dependent on my parents forever.” 

“I would kill to be dependent on my parents forever,” Maia says. “I’ve been supporting myself since the day I turned eighteen. I wish my life was that easy.” 

“It’s not easy,” Alec says, his voice louder than before. “Just because my parents have money it doesn’t mean that everything is easy for me.” 

“I know,” Maia says. “But it’s a hell of a lot better than living with five roommates and working two jobs to support yourself.”

“Maia,” Bat interrupts. “We invited Alec to come with us, don’t push him.” 

Maia looks between Alec and Bat, before sighing and leaning back in her chair. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been on edge lately.” 

Alec shrugs and looks away, “It’s fine,” he says. “I get it. I... I lash out too. Sometimes. Like when I got a shitty homemade tattoo that my mother made me get covered up the  minute she saw it.” Maia laughs, and Alec can see her demeanor shift. She’s more relaxed, but not just from the alcohol.

“That was a shitty tattoo,” she says. “Definitely not something someone in their right mind would get.” 

“I thought it would make me seem tougher,” Alec says as he leans forward, his elbows on the table. It tilts, sliding the empty shot glasses toward him. “Someone was giving me a hard time, and I thought maybe it would make them back off.”

“So, you’re a fighter,” Maia says. “That’s badass.” 

“No,” Alec responds, leaning back again. The table wobbles. “The opposite.” His mind drifts back to that day, sitting through the stinging pain in someone's block while Sebastian watched for guards. “It was so I wouldn’t have to fight anyone.” 

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t intimidating,” Maia says. “I’m sure you could be... if you wanted to. Although, it’s nice to know a man who isn’t so defensive. My boyfriend is the opposite.” 

“Jordan can be quite prideful,” Bat says. He looks back over at Alec, his eyes slightly drooped. He uses the back of his hand to wipe sweat his forehead. Behind them, the group of men playing pool get louder, one dropping his glass. As it shatters, the rest of the patrons in the bar all look over. His face is red, and he and another man of the group start arguing. The staff quickly run over to the commotion to break up the fight. Bat pulls a few bills out of his pocket and tosses them onto the table. “I believe that’s our cue.” 

The night air cools Alec’s face when they exit the bar, bringing him back to reality. It was quiet for the city, only small groups of people around. As the trio start walking, Alec checks the time. He had been so lost in his conversation with Bat and Maia that he hadn’t even realized it was past midnight. Maia and Bat stumble along the sidewalk, grabbing onto each other to balance. At the stairs to the subway entrance, Bat near trips, and Alec reaches forward and grabs his upper arm. 

“You’re too kind,” Bat says. He smiles at Alec, who can’t help but blush. The three descend into the subway entrance. “Maia and I ride the train  together; our apartments are close enough.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Maia says. “We do this a lot.” 

“I should walk you there,” Alec offers. “The city’s dangerous at night.” 

“I carry a switchblade,” Maia says. She smirks, and pulls it out of her jacket pocket, jokingly aiming it at Alec. Alec backs up, his back hitting the wall.

“Relax, Alexander,” Bat says, his hand resting on Alec’s shoulder. “She only uses it when she needs to.”

The small crowd of people in front of them gather on the train platform, and despite their protests, Alec follows Maia and Bat into the subway. The car is empty aside from them, and as it starts moving, Maia gets up and grabs onto one of the poles. She swings around it a couple of times before sliding down to the floor. 

“That’s disgusting,” Bat says. He sat next to Alec, and Alec could tell he was already sobering up. “People do unspeakable things there, Maia.” 

“You want to do unspeakable things,” Maia says, pulling herself up. “You wish you could,” she smirks at him, and starts swinging again.

Bat rolls his eyes, and he and Alec watch her for a moment. Sighing, Bat stands up and grabs onto the pole next to Maia’s. He leans his body back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he swings. It reminds Alec of the nights he would spend with Jace and Simon, messing around in the park near his apartment. Smoking in dark parking lots and jumping onto the cars. Before Jace had opened his father’s stash, when all they did was smoke weed. Alec hadn’t realized how much he missed the lighthearted moments.

“Join us,” Maia says, swinging in front of Alec. “It’s fun, once you get over how gross the floor is.” 

“I would rather not,” Alec says. 

“You’re no fun,” Maia says. “No drinking. No swinging.” 

“You don’t know if he swings or not,” Bat says. “For all we know, Alec goes to the biggest orgies in the city.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Maia says. The subway comes to a hard stop, and she and Bat fly forward, landing on top of each other on the floor. “This is our stop,” she groans. Alec rushes to help them up and get them off the train.

“Let’s go,” he mutters, knowing that the doors would close soon. As he pulls them up, he grabs both of their hands, and blocks the closing doors with his back. The recorded voice on the train tells them to step away from the doors, and it tries to close again. Once Maia is through, he steps off. Behind him, as the train takes off again, he feels the breeze on his back. 

“So, you  _ can _ be intimidating,” Bat says, smirking. “It’s a good look on you.” He and Alec look at each other for a moment, until Maia starts walking up the stairs.

“Jordan is going to be pissed if I wake him up,” she says. “He has work in the morning.” Her demeanor changed the closer they got to the apartment. She stopped swaying, and picked up the speed of her feet. Alec could still tell in her eyes that she still wasn’t completely there yet. The rest of the walk to Maia’s apartment is short, and she thanks Alec for walking them. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you ever want to just hang out,” she says. “It doesn’t have to be for a piece.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec says, a soft smile falling on his face. She types a code into the door, and it opens, leaving her to disappear into the building. 

“It’s late,” Bat says, his voice quiet. “You should crash on my couch,” he says. “My roommate is out of town, so you don’t have to worry about it.” Alec opens his mouth to deny the offer, but Bat interrupts him. “It’s way too late for you to go home by yourself,” he says. As he starts walking, Alec hesitates to follow him, but does anyway. He texts his mother, assuring her he’s okay, and Bat looks over his shoulder. Alec shoves his phone into his pocket. “Sorry,” Bat says. “I don’t usually spy... I was just curious...” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says, following the other man.

“I must admit...” Bat continues. He stops walking at the front door of an apartment complex and scans a card to unlock the door. It flashes green, and he holds it open for Alec. “I wasn’t planning on visiting Maia tonight at all. But when she told me she had an appointment for you I decided to go out.” They enter an elevator, wobbling, the walls a faded brick. It starts up the building, creaking as it passes each floor. Bat and Alec look at each other for a moment, and Alec feels the other man’s hand brush against his. “Would it be bad if I kissed you?”

“Oh, I...” Alec pulls his hand away and bites his bottom lip hard enough that he feels the skin break. 

“I’m sorry,” Bat says, his voice becoming higher. “I used my intuition... I thought  you might be...” 

“No, it’s not that. You’re right, I-”

“Right about what?” 

“That I’m...” 

“Attracted to men. But that doesn’t mean I should have tried to pressure you, I-” 

“I’m not pressured,” Alec says, stepping forward. “It’s just... I barely know you... and I...” 

“I almost never know the people who I hook up with,” Bat says. “I’m a heat of the moment person. But I’m not so sure there’s a moment between us, right now. At least not the kind that there should be... if we were to...” he trails off, looking at Alec, their faces inches apart. The elevator pings, and the doors open. Alec follows Bat out of the tight space, and into his small apartment. It’s cluttered, books and papers everywhere. There’s a couple pizza boxes on the floor, and a pile of shoes next to the door. Bat kicks off his shoes, and encourages Alec to do the same. 

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Alec says, hanging his jacket on a hook. His arm  still stung; the ink still fresh. 

“No problem,” Bat says. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for dealing with Maia and I this evening. I know we can be... impulsive.” 

Alec scoffs. “You aren’t impulsive,” he says. “I am... I... I’m on parole, and I went to a bar and stayed out into the hours of the morning.”

Bat looks at Alec for a moment, his gaze soft in the dim light of the room. “I didn’t know,” he says. “We wouldn’t have taken you to a bar if we knew. I’m sorry we put you in such a stressful situation.” 

“It wasn’t stressful,” Alec says. He walks over and sits next to Bat on the couch. “To be honest... it was nice being invited somewhere by someone. I don’t go out anymore. I spent years... locked away from the outside world... and when I finally get out, all I do is sit in my bedroom.” 

“All anyone does is sit in their bedroom these days,” Bat says. “That’s what I do. When I’m not in class, most of the time. There’s peace in isolation.” Alec shrugs, and stares down at his lap. “I can’t say I’ve shared the same experience as you. I don’t know what prison is like, but from what I understand it’s crowded. You deserve to have alone time in your bedroom.” 

Alec shifts in his spot on the couch, his knee bumping the other man’s. No one had ever put it that way before. He felt lazy most of the time, if he was being honest with him. Isabelle and Max were always doing a lot, between work and school. His mother was constantly busy with work. When Magnus hired him, he had assumed he would feel more productive, but even with having a part-time job, he felt like there was something missing from his life still. “It wouldn’t be bad,” Alec says. Bat stares at him, his eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “If you kissed me, I mean.” 

“Oh,” Bat says. He leans forward and smiles, just slightly, but Alec sees it. He gently cups Alec’s face, his fingers grazing his stubble. Slowly, their lips come together, and Alec feels himself starting to panic. It had been years since he had kissed someone, and he feared that it would be awkward, but he and Bat quickly fall into a rhythm. It escalates quicker than Alec anticipated. He feels Bat grab onto his shirt, and Alec’s body falls forward. They fall back on the couch, and Bat’s head hits the arm rest. He takes a deep breath and gently pulls on Alec’s waist band. Alec swings his knee around until he was sitting on the other man’s lap, and he feels Bat’s mouth move down his neck. He was taller than the other man, but not by too much.

As Alec feels a hand slide under the waistband of his sweat pants, he sucks in a sharp breath. Bat’s hand stays over his underwear, but as it travels over the front of his body Alec reaches down at grabs the other man’s wrist to stop him. “Are you okay?” Bat asks, pulling his hand back. “Should I stop?” 

“I...” Alec feels his skin becoming hot and sweat builds on his forehead. “I don’t know... it’s been a long time, and I...” 

“If you don’t want to do this, we can stop,” Bat says. “My feelings won’t be hurt. It’s just sex. And like you said, you barely know me.” 

Alec looks at him for a moment, studying him. Every time he had sex with someone, it wasn’t based on emotions he felt for the other person. And this was no different, so he didn’t understand why he was hesitating. “It’s not that,” Alec says. “There’s...” the image of Magnus lifting up his shirt to reveal his tattoo comes back into Alec’s head. 

“There’s someone else,” Bat says. Alec opens his mouth to respond, but Bat shakes his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I have feelings for someone else, too.” Alec looks at the other man for a moment, trying to pretend like he wasn’t thinking of Magnus. Before he can think about it, he surges forward, catching Bat’s lips with his again. 

_ Feelings.  _ It was a conversation that Alec didn’t want to have. He hadn’t processed that word with his thoughts about Magnus before. He didn’t know why, but the thought of it made his chest feel tight and made his mind race in a hundred different ways. Within a couple minutes, Alec feels the other man’s hand travel under his pants again, but he doesn’t fight it. Eventually, he feels Bat’s hand slide under his underwear, and as it moves, Alec tries to forget about Magnus. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept drifting back to the professor for the rest of the night.

“I am weirdly proud of you,” Dr.  Garroway says later that week. “It might not be appropriate- as your doctor- but I don’t care. This is a big deal Alec.”

“It’s not,” Alec says. “We didn’t even really have sex.” 

“No, I’m proud that you let yourself have fun. You went out to a bar, and hung out with people who aren’t your family members,” Dr.  Garroway says. “You’re making friends.” Alec shrugs. “We need friends to function. Are you going to do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “Not for a long time.” 

“Just going outside with people is a victory in itself,” Dr.  Garroway says. “Even for neurotypical people. The urge to want to stay inside all the time is easy to succumb to.” 

“It’s not to me,” Alec says. “My siblings go out with their friends all the time. It’s regular for them. It used to be regular for me. Now I’m just lazy. Going to that bar... made me feel exhausted the next day. I’m twenty-four. I should be going out all the time.” 

“We all function differently, Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. “You are not the only person who gets tired from going out. And, as I’ve said many times before, you need to stop comparing yourself to who you were. You’ve grown as a person- for the better, I should add. This does relate to something I wanted to try to talk about today. I want to track your mental illness back to when you were in high school. The further back we can trace it, the easier it will be to understand why drugs appeal so much to you.”

Alec runs fingers through his hair and leans back in his chair. Every time they talked about his past, he felt like he was sixteen again. Insignificant. Childish. It was like something in him changed, and suddenly he was annoyed at everything his therapist said. Just like how he was angry with everything his parents used to say. “There isn’t anything to talk about,” Alec says. “It was fun. I liked being high. I preferred it.” 

“Smoking weed is one thing,” Dr.  Garroway says. “But mentally healthy people don’t choose to do hard drugs, Alec.” 

“Jace and Simon did. Maybe it was just peer pressure.” 

“That’s part of it. But would you say they were completely mentally stable?” Dr.  Garroway asks. Alec doesn’t answer, instead looking out the window past his doctor’s head. “Alec.”

“I guess,” Alec says.

“ So, they were completely fine? It was all just for fun?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec continues. “Simon and I were best friends. We knew everything about each other. He got bullied at school for a while... but nothing else happened. He just wanted to be cool.” 

“You told me he’s been to rehab three times. That sounds more than a bullying problem to me.” Alec sighs and looks back at the other man. “Did he know about your relationship with Andrew Underhill?” 

“No,” Alec answers, his voice quieter than before. 

“Then maybe you weren’t the only one keeping secrets.” 

“Simon wouldn’t do that,” Alec says. “He was... always the innocent one. He was in love with Jace’s girlfriend. He was a virgin. He actually looked forward to eating dinner with his family. It’s not his fault... he... he’s not that kind of person.” 

“What kind of person?” 

“He’s not a bad person.” 

“You aren’t either.” 

“If it wasn’t for me Simon wouldn’t have even been friends with Jace,” Alec says. “I’m the one who was...  hyper fixated ... on him.” 

“That’s a strong way to say you had a crush on him,” Dr.  Garroway says.

Alec scoffs. “I’ve never said that.” 

“I know. But... would things be different if you didn’t say what you did in court?” Dr.  Garroway asks. “What you did came from... a place with strong feelings. And it isn’t unheard of for someone who is closeted to have feelings for their best friend.”

“You talked to my mother, didn’t you?” Alec asks, standing up from his seat. “You told me you aren’t allowed to do that.” 

“I’ve never breached our confidentiality,” Dr.  Garroway says. “You have my word on that. She explained to me what happened before you started coming to me. Before you were even released Maryse was seeking out therapists in the city that you could go see. I was one of them, and when she explained the  situation, I gladly offered my help.” 

“Am I just some charity to you?” Alec asks, pacing the room. “Is that why you do this?  So you can have some... list of people you’ve cured?  So you can say that you’re a good person?” 

“Alec,” Dr.  Garroway says. He stays seated, watching as his patient walks back and forth between him. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Let’s sit back down, and start to control our breathing.” 

“No,” Alec snaps. “You know more about me than you act like you do. Why?” 

“I have a file. I told you that on our first day together. But we’re working at your pace. I don’t want to push you. Alec, please sit back down.”

“I did what I did in court out of guilt,” Alec says. “Because I felt bad. And Jace was the only one who was going to get any time. And I... I thought maybe if I said something, he wouldn’t be alone. And I didn’t want to go home after what happened. I felt bad. I... I knew Jace needed me, when it happened. He was freaking out... and when we were in our cell, after we got arrested, I kissed him. We were both going through withdrawal, and instead of being there for my friend, I kissed him. And he... was disgusted in me. I thought maybe if... if we could be there for each other, in prison... I could amend things.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Dr.  Garroway says, his voice monotone. Alec stops pacing, and looks over at him, his gaze dark. “I believe that you kissed him, and he didn’t respond the way you wanted him to. But I don’t believe that’s the reason you said what did in court. You could have gotten out with court ordered counseling and rehabilitation, like Simon Lewis did. But when you made your statement, that changed the course of things. I know that you’re a smart person, Alec. You knew that it would increase your possibility of being sentenced. Why?” 

Alec’s shoulders sink, and he looks down at the other man. “I just told you.” 

“But that’s not why. And deep down, you know why. It’s the same as November three years ago.” Alec takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the lump building in his throat. He clenches his fists, hard enough that he feels his nails break the skin in his palms. His knees buckle, and he slides down the side of the chair, hitting the floor. “Alec, breathe,” Dr.  Garroway says, following his patient to the floor, kneeling next to him. “Count down from ten.”

“Ten...” Alec chokes out, closing his eyes. In his head, he’s not in the office. He’s sitting in his bunk, on the edge of his bed while the other men started getting up for their jobs. The officer’s voices rang through his head.  _ Everyone at the end of their bunks.  _ His mind starts to get foggy. “Six...” he hears himself saying, but it felt like it wasn’t him. Dr.  Garroway’s hand squeezes his forearm, and Alec’s eyes snap open. He’s sitting on the floor of his therapist’s office. He’s not lying in his bunk at Rikers. “One.” 

“Ten seconds,” Dr.  Garroway says. “That’s a good start.” He gets up and walks to his desk, pouring Alec a cup of coffee.

Alec’s zoned out working on organizing another box when  Ragnor drops another stack of files on the table, slamming his hand down. It scares Alec, and he slides his headphones off, looking up at the professor. “I need these copied by the end of today,”  Ragnor says, his voice low. “And then, I need them organized and stapled together.” 

“Sure,” Alec says, looking back down at his work.

Magnus walks out of his office, wandering over to the table. He looks through the folders, raising an eyebrow. “Fifteen pages?” he asks. “No wonder your students rate you badly on those professor rating websites.” 

“Well, they can blame you, for putting me in a bad mood,”  Ragnor says.

“I can do that, bet aside,” Magnus says. “It’s my favorite past time, actually.”  Ragnor rolls his eyes as Magnus leans on Alec’s chair. His hip grazes against Alec’s shoulder, and it sends chills down his spine. “ Ragnor and I both have a caffeine problem, like most do in academia. So, we have a running bet to see who will break first after quitting cold turkey.” 

“I have not gone a day in my life without a cup of coffee since the 80s,”  Ragnor says. “Which makes this bet completely unfair, considering Dr. Bane wasn’t even born.”

“Are you thinking of quitting, then?” Magnus asks, smirking.

“Absolutely not. I have never lost a bet in my life.” 

“Neither have I.” 

“Well, there’s a first for everything,”  Ragnor spats. He looks at Magnus once more, giving him his best death glare, before returning to his office and slamming the door. Magnus laughs, and also returns to his office, leaving Alec alone again.

After a couple hours, once Alec is finally done sorting the box,  Ragnor leaves for his afternoon class, not bothering to announce his departure. Magnus walks back out and watches the older man out the window of the office, poking fun at his stature. “You would think he just stepped out of a casket,” Magnus says, laughing to himself. “I know he’s pale, but he looks like something Bram Stoker would have written about.” Alec slides his headphones off, smiling. In the late afternoon it got quiet in the office. Most of the professors had classes, and the students were too tired to come in for office hours. “Would it be too much if I asked you to make copies of some papers for me? Since you’re heading over there already?” 

“Not at all,” Alec says. “Anything to kill the time.” 

“You don’t have hobbies? No parties to go to, friends to hang out with?” Magnus asks. Alec looks at him, unsure. “Maybe that’s why we get along so well. We’re more similar than I thought.”

It takes Alec an hour just to make the right amount of copies in the papers, and when he returns, he has a stack heavy enough that he breaks a sweat just carrying it back. Usually,  Ragnor stuck around after Alec, but quitting his cold turkey habit had made him extra irritable, and he locks his office door and walks out of the office right after his afternoon class is over. “I’ll know if you break,” Magnus yells as the other professor walks out.  Ragnor stops and looks back, only to flip off his colleague.

After he’s gone, Magnus sighs and sits in the chair next to Alec at the table. “Thank you for making these,” he says. “I really appreciate it. I choose not to have any student assistants, so I usually have to make everything myself. I believe our students should be one-hundred percent focused on their work.” 

“You’re welcome,” Alec says. There’s a pause between them for a moment. “I... I really don’t mind doing this stuff for you. It’s an easy way to distract myself.”

Their eyes meet for a moment, and Alec clenches his jaw. Magnus looks away first, down at the papers. “I need these staples together, just the two pages together. If you don’t mind?” 

“No,” Alec answers, probably too quickly. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” 

“Thank you,” Magnus says. He checks his watch, frowning. “I’m covering someone’s class, and then I have a meeting, so when you’re done, I’ll look for them on my desk. Thank you, again. I do really appreciate it.” 

After Magnus leaves, Alec finds himself working on stapling everything at the slowest rate possible. He wasn’t sure how long Magnus would be gone, but he wanted to be there when he got back. Being with Magnus was better than going home to his closed off mother, or to Max screaming into his gaming headset. Isabelle often texted him after work, but it was all small talk that didn’t feel important to him. Slowly, he gets all the papers stapled by hand, ignoring the machine he knew he could use to do it faster. Over two hours go by, and outside, the campus was finally starting to settle down as people went home for the day.

Alec is just finishing when Magnus walks back into the office, looking more tired than he did before. His hair was messy, sticking out in different places, and his satchel was left open, exposing loose papers. “Oh,” he says as he sees Alec places the papers on his desk. “I assumed you would be long gone by now.” 

“I took my time,” Alec admits. “I... uh...” 

“I owe you a dinner,” Magnus says. “It’s a little early, but I insist. As a thank you. I would have been here until the sun set without you.” 

“You don’t really have to, it’s-”

“I insist,” Magnus says. He packs up his back and walks Alec out of his office, locking the door behind him. “You deserve it, anyway. Not just for today... I know Ragnor can be a lot.” 

“It could be worse,” Alec says as they walk out of the office. At the elevator, another professor in the department walks past, giving Magnus a dirty look as she does. Magnus sighs, watching as the doors open. 

Once inside, Magnus responds. “I really am going to miss  Ragnor ,” he says. “I might be the only one... but... when I first got hired four years ago, he was the only one who immediately took me seriously. I got the smallest office, in the corner, when the sun shines through too much. I sit on the broken chair during department meetings. I get the biggest classes... over a hundred freshman, where I can’t keep track of who’s paying attention or not. But thanks to  Ragnor , this year I got some graduate classes that he didn’t want to take in his last year. I’m younger than some of my students, and that frustrates the rest of the faculty.” 

Alec shrugs, and the elevator reaches the bottom floor. He follows Magnus out, and they walk down the sidewalk in silence for a few minutes. “It’s probably easiest to ignore them,” Alec says. “I guess.” 

“You’re right,” Magnus says. “But next year that’s going to be quite difficult.” They stop at a traffic light, waiting in a group with other students. “I wasn’t going to mention it... but... this is sort of a celebratory dinner, I suppose. I just got told that  Ragnor recommended me to take over as head of the department in his place.”

“That’s amazing,” Alec says, looking over at the other man. He smiles, with teeth, something he hadn’t done since he was in high school. “You’re amazing,” he says before he even realizes it. 

Magnus stares at the taller man, his mouth slightly agape for a moment. “Thank you,” he says, and they keep walking down the street. “I... I needed to hear that.” 

“I’m being serious. You’re the smartest person I know,” Alec says. “I can’t even fathom knowing as much as you do.” 

“A lot of studying,” Magnus says. “Quite a lot. Hours a day. To put it simply.” Alec laughs. “I sound so pretentious, I’m sorry. It’s just... I worked my ass off to get where I am, and I haven’t been rewarded for it until this afternoon. It feels surreal to me almost.” They come up to a café, one that Magnus apparently came to frequently, because the hostess knows him by his first name. She takes him a small table for two on the back of the patio, surprising quiet considering rush hour was starting on the street. “I usually go here alone after work. It’s sort of... a hipster place.” 

Alec shakes his head. “I’m sure it’s just another pretentious café like the ones my sister takes me to.”

“That’s the word,” Magnus says. “Pretentious. But I must admit, I do adore little expensive places like this. It’s. a guilty pleasure."

“I know a lot about guilty pleasure,” Alec says before looking down at the menu. His eyes scan it for a moment before he glances back at Magnus, his head still down. Magnus is leaning back in the small chair, looking at Alec over his menu. They stare at each other for a moment, before they both look back down. Alec feels himself blushing, and curses his pale skin for letting it show so easily.

After the waiter takes their order, the two men sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, watching people walk by. “This is my favorite past time after classes,” Magnus says. “I like to watch the rush hour crowd and have conversations with myself.”

“I’m intruding.” 

“No, this is way better,” Magnus says. The couple sitting a few tables down from them both have small cups of espresso. “If you weren’t here, I might have broken down and ordered a cup of coffee.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, then,” Alec says, sipping his water. “You wouldn’t want to lose your bet.” 

“It’s not a bet,” Magnus says. “Not technically.  Ragnor and I are both too stubborn to break. Within the next week I’ll be off of caffeine entirely at this rate. Although, I wish it wasn’t cold turkey. It’s quite the slap in the face.” 

Alec picks up his fork and plays with it, gently tapping it on the table. “Epithumia.” 

“I see you remember  Ragnor’s rant,” Magnus says. “ Epithumia . Although, my life would be very boring if caffeine was my only pleasure, wouldn’t it?” The waitress walks over and places two glasses of wine on the table, smiling and assuring them their food would be out soon. Alec stares at the beverage, biting his lip. “Well, this is... sad, isn’t it? I come here frequently enough that they know which wine to get me without even asking.” 

“You have good taste in restaurants,” Alec says. Under the table, he squeezes his knees with his hands, distracting himself from the beverage. Magnus sips his glass, slowly, while maintaining eye contact with Alec. “Good service.” 

“The owner commissioned a piece from Caterina last year,” Magnus says. “I’m sure if he wants to try and get another free piece... or if he just sees a worn down, exhausted professor, and thinks... that man needs a drink.”

“It could be both.” 

“I do hope it’s the former,” Magnus admits. “Or I would be spending a hundred dollars on anti-aging cream a month for nothing.” 

“That is ridiculous,” Alec says. “Anti-aging cream?” 

“My mother died when she was twenty-nine, the same age as I am. She looked forty-nine,” Magnus says, sipping the wine again. “Although, I suppose all the drugs made it worse.” Alec’s eyes widen for a moment, and he stares at the professor, feeling himself starting to panic.  _ Did he know?  _ “Sorry. Sometimes I forget that that can be a bombshell to others. I’ve just grown used to it.”

Alec takes a deep breath and picks up the wine, looking at his distorted reflection in the red liquid. He swirls it around in his hand, watching the beverage slosh around in the glass. “It’s not that, I just...” he starts, his voice quiet. “I don’t know. Maybe I... I never mentioned before, I guess. When I dropped out of high school, I was an addict.” He expects Magnus to suddenly start apologizing, like everyone did when they found out about Alec’s past. Whenever he mentioned it, everyone around him would walk on egg shells. Instead, Magnus reaches over, and gently takes the glass from Alec’s hand. He looks around for a moment, and then leans over and dumps both drinks into the fake plant sitting next to them.

“Had I known that I would have objected to the wine being brought out,” Magnus says. “And I wouldn’t be making such a big deal about giving up caffeine for a bet. But... it’s easy to assume, I suppose. That’s all anyone does, anyway. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have an assumption about you after seeing you at the art auction months ago. When I realized your father was a  co-host, I assumed you were another entitled son of a rich businessman.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Alec says. “If my life went as planned... I would just be another leech on wall street with a personality purely based on their last name. That’s how Lightwood men are supposed to be. Confident. Conniving. At least, that’s what my father raised me to believe.” The waitress interrupts him, bringing their food with a forced smile. Alec ordered the simplest thing on the menu, just a bowl of spaghetti, not wanting to spend too much of Magnus’ money.

“If that’s true, then you are quite a rebel,” Magnus says. “Even through an upbringing like yours, you manage to be a considerate and kind person. Although, I don’t disagree on the part about confidence. Valuing your self-worth is a key point to success, regardless of what you are trying to succeed in.”

“Is that how you’ve been so successful?” Alec asks, spinning the noodles on his fork. “I have to admit... from what I’ve seen, you seem to carry yourself with certainty.” 

“I do make an effort to stand with the best posture I can and speak profoundly,” Magnus says. “In college I learned that the more confident I made myself appear, the most serious my peers took me. I was often the only person not coming from a rich background in my classes. I wasn’t coming from a long line of Ivy League graduates. But I learned to make it seem that way. Eventually, it became a permanent shroud.”

“It’s all an act?” Alec continues. “If that’s the case, then you’re a very talented actor.”

“You are too,” Magnus says. “It’s fun to put out a fictional version of ourselves to the world. It serves as an escape from our reality,” he waves a thinly slice bite of chicken on his fork while he speaks. “But I do hope that the person I’m sitting with now is the real Alec, because I do enjoy talking to him very much.” 

Alec takes an obnoxiously big bite of his food once Magnus is finished, wanting extra time to come up with a response. His cheeks fill with noodles, and he spots a small smile on Magnus’ face. Without thinking, he smiles back with his mouth closed and still filled with food. They sit in silence for a moment while Alec works on not choking. “I’m sorry,” Alec says. “I should have better table etiquette... my mother would be horrified right now.” 

Magnus shakes his head and laughs. “Don’t apologize,” he says. For a moment, he looks around, and then scoops up a large amount of the lettuce on his plate and shoves it into his mouth. The arugula sticks out, and he struggles to chew it. Alec finds himself laughing while the professor expands his jaw as much as he can to chew the food. A few of the other people at the tables give them a side eye as Magnus starts coughing. He forces the food down with his ice water, and when he’s done his face is a soft pink. 

Once they finish their food, Magnus tips generously, and they walk toward the subway station. The conversation lulls, just becoming small talk. Magnus mentions a few students in his classes, and Alec listens, trying not to be distracted by the city around them. In front of the station, a group of teenagers messing around at a staircase catch their attention. Alec can see them vaping from a distance, and as they get closer, he sees their skateboards stacked on the side. From seemingly out of nowhere, another kid appears, riding his board off the staircase. As he lands it, the board slides out from under him, rolling straight for Magnus and Alec. Alec kneels down and catches it by the nose, picking it up. The kid runs over, apologizing profusely.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alec says, handing him back the board.

As the kid runs back, Magnus turns to Alec. “I miss being young sometimes,” he says. “Before my brain realized I could get hurt doing things.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, following the professor to the subway entrance. As the kid comes down the stairs again, he lands the jump, and his friends erupt in cheers. Alec stops, watching them cheer for him. Next to them there was work being done on a building, leaving several sheets of plywood out. “I have a stupid idea.” 

A minute later, Alec is instructing two of the teenagers to steady the piece of plywood on top of the rail to the stairs. It wasn’t the biggest staircase, only about six steps, but it was fairly steep as Alec looked down. “Alexander,” Magnus says from the bottom of the steps. “You are going to hurt yourself.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Alec says. “I can take a fall if I have to.” 

“This is dangerous.” 

“Relax. It’s just a boardslide.” Alec says. Once the board is steadily held by two of the kids, Alec swings his foot onto the top of the railing. He forces himself up, and as his leg straightens out, towering over the teenagers, he shifts his weight onto the piece of plywood, and they let go. He slides down, a little wobbly, but it’s over before he realizes it. The piece of wood lands onto the concrete, and he catches his weight with bent knees. Around him, the kids all cheer, some of them filming him. 

Alec looks up to see Magnus gawking at him. “I told you it would be fine,” he says. He walks forward, smirking, and Magnus shakes his head. 

“That was ridiculous,” Magnus says. “You scared me half to death, Alexander. I thought you were going to fall and crack your head open.” Alec puts the piece of plywood back, and just as he turns around, he sees someone flying into Magnus, and they both crash to the concrete.

“Holy shit,” Alec exclaims as he kneels down. One of the kids rolls over, groaning. Magnus opens his eyes, looking up at Alec. Alec reaches down and gently cups Magnus’ shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asks. Magnus nods, but as he sits up, his eyes widen. He grasps his elbow with the opposite hand, and holds up his forearm. As Alec looks at it, he sees it bend unnaturally, clearly broken. “That’s not good.” 

“Oh my god,” the teenager on the ground next to them says. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Does it hurt?” 

“It will,” Magnus says, gritting his teeth. “I think my adrenaline may have already kicked in. Or, I am still in disbelief and I don’t realize it.” 

“Tisch isn’t that far from here,” Alec says. “Can you walk?” Magnus nods, and Alec and the teenager help him up. 

“I am so sorry,” the kid repeats. “I didn’t realize how much speed I would have coming off, and-”

“It’s okay,” Magnus says. “Accidents happen. Mistakes happen. I’m not worried about it. My insurance can cover a cast.”

Despite reassuring the group of teenagers that he would be okay, they insist on walking with Alec and Magnus the few blocks to the hospital. Once there, Magnus encourages Alec to go home if he needed to, but Alec refused to leave the other man alone. After Magnus checked in, they found a spot in the corner of the room, facing each other. Around them, several people waited. It was quiet for the most part, aside from the nurses talking to each other in the front. “It’s my fault,” Alec says. “I’m the one who made us stop there. I guess I... I don’t know. I wanted to impress you with that stupid rail.” 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Magnus says. “If I’m being honest... I wasn’t expecting you to suddenly decide to slide down a railing on a piece of wood. But it  _ was _ entertaining. And I haven’t had an adrenaline rush like this in... I can’t remember how long. I had no idea being around you could be so... exhilarating,” he leans forward on the last word, his face inches from Alec’s. Alec opens his mouth to respond, but instead finds himself staring at Magnus, leaning closer. His mouth falls open, just slightly, and he sees Magnus glance down at his lips. As the two men look at each other, Alec feels his breathing become slower.

Just as he starts to lean forward, closing the gap between them, a voice calls out Magnus’ name. “What happened?” Catarina asks, walking up to the two men. She looks between Alec and Magnus for a moment, before taking the seat next to Magnus. “Oh, my God,” she mutters as she sees Magnus’ arm. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Magnus says, leaning back in his chair. He and Alec make eye contact once more, before he turns to Catarina. “Thank you for getting here so quickly. I’ll be fine. It was just an accident.” 

“Well, you don’t go out much,” Catarina says. “So, I don’t what you could have been doing that was extreme enough that you break your arm.”

Magnus ignores her, looking back at Alec. “I’ll be fine. You can go home.” 

“Sure,” Alec says, standing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

“This is disgusting,” Alec says, putting the dark green smoothie Isabelle had made him down on the counter. She had invited him over for dinner that Friday. “I’m not drinking this.” 

“I know it doesn’t taste the best,” Isabelle says. “But you need to finish it. I want you to consume at least two a day.” 

“No way,” Alec says, although he takes another sip. He frowns at the taste, looking back at his sister. 

“Finish it,” Isabelle insists. Alec sighs, but forces himself to chug the rest of the drink. “You’re too skinny, Alec. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Izzy,” Alec says. “I’m in therapy, remember?” 

“I know. I’m proud of you for working through everything, you know that,” Isabelle says. “It’s just... I thought by now you would have at least gained back the weight you lost at Rikers.”

Alec looks away, glancing out the window of the apartment. Outside, the sun was setting on the horizon, turning the sky a bright orange. He didn’t mention prison around his family. It was an unspoken rule. His mother could gripe about his mental health. Max and Isabelle checked in on him about therapy. His father even called at least once a week to make sure Alec was doing well. But no one ever brought up the incarceration. “Well, it’s easy to lose weight eating cardboard every day.”

“I know how bad it was,” Isabelle says. “I know it’s... hard to break old habits. But you’re undereating for your height. If you could just gain twenty pounds at least, you would feel a lot better. Let me make you a diet plan.” 

“I don’t need a diet plan, Isabelle,” Alec insists. “I don’t need to be put on some schedule, okay? I don’t need to be monitored. I don’t  _ want  _ to be monitored.” 

“I’m not trying to monitor you, Alec,” Isabelle says. She grabs the glass and starts to rinse it out in the sink. “I’m trying to help you. Therapy is beneficial, but how we feel physically affects us mentally, too.” Once the glass is clear, she turns back around, facing her brother. “Please. Just... at least promise me that you will try to eat more. Just the two protien shakes a day.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, before Alec sighs and nods. “Fine. I’ll drink your disgusting green juice.” Isabelle smiles and reaches forward, hugging her older brother. She buries her head in his chest, squeezing him just as the doorbell rings.

“That must be our food,” Isabelle says, walking out of the room. Alec waits in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Clary was out of the apartment, and Alec could only handle so much of his mother and Max arguing about their grades. Luckily, Isabelle had called and offered to buy him takeout and pick a movie they could watch together.

After a couple minutes, Alec could still hear Isabelle talking to someone, her voice in a harsh whisper. He ventures out of the kitchen, walking toward the argument. At first, he’s concerned that the delivery driver was arguing with her, but to his surprise, he walks in on Simon standing in the living room. “Alec?” Simon asks, turning to look at him. They had exchanged a couple text messages since that night weeks ago, but since then Alec hadn’t seen his former friend.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting him,” Isabelle says. She runs her hand through her hair and sighs, stepping away from Simon. “Please, just... let’s discuss this another time. Not now.” 

Simon looks between Alec and Isabelle, and his face drops. He bites his bottom lip and brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “You didn’t tell him,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m sorry, Izzy. If I had known, I wouldn’t have...” 

“Didn’t tell me what?” Alec asks, looking between the two. Isabelle and Simon look at each other, then back at Alec. 

Simon steps back toward the open front door. “Izzy?” He asks, looking at her. 

Isabelle crosses her arms over her chest and stares at Simon for another moment. “Simon is here... to... finish getting his stuff. I think. Or try to win me back for the tenth time.” 

Alec narrows his eyebrows, staring at his sister. Then, he realizes what she was implying. “You... You were dating?  _ He’s  _ the person you broke up with?”

“I guess you’re really that embarrassed of me, aren’t you?” Simon asks, looking at Isabelle. 

“It’s not like that, Simon,” Isabelle says. “Alec... I was going to tell you. Eventually. But I knew that... I know that your past is a difficult subject, and... I knew... I know... that you’re going to be angry about it...” 

“You’re right,” Alec says. He could feel his chest getting tight, but it was hard for him to tell why. He wanted to be angry with his sister for not telling him the truth, but he could see the hurt in her face. Their relationship couldn’t handle many more fights. “Isabelle...” 

“It wasn’t easy, okay?” Isabelle says, raising her voice. She looks between Alec and Simon, her eyes wide. “You went to  _ jail.  _ And suddenly, I was more alone that I had ever been. My friends stopped talking to me. Mother and father only lectured me. Max didn’t know what was going on. I was popular, and I had a lot of friends. I thought I did, anyway. But after what happened, nobody would talk to me. The only people who knew how I felt were Clary... and Simon. It just... happened, okay? I should have told you. I’m sorry.” 

“She’s not wrong,” Simon says, looking at Alec. “For a long time... it was just us. Isabelle was there for me. Eventually... there were feelings involved.” 

“But I broke up with him as soon as you got out,” Isabelle says. “Because I want to be there for you as best as I can. Okay?” Before Alec can respond, they’re interrupted by a delivery man knocking on the door frame, awkwardly standing with the bag of food. 

After Simon retrieves a few articles of clothing, he bids goodbye to the siblings, shutting. the door gently behind him as he leaves. Isabelle and Alec sit at the table, a stack of  styrofoam boxes sitting between them. It’s silent, aside from the sink dripping every few seconds. Isabelle looks down at the table, slouching in her seat. She rests her hands on the table and looks up at her older brother. Alec stands up suddenly, hastily kicking his chair back. It hits the wall with a loud thud, and he quickly walks over to the sink and adjusts the faucet, stopping the dripping. Now with their backs to each other, Alec breaks the silence. “How long were you together?” 

“Off and on for four years,” Isabelle says.

“Why did you break up? Before I came back, I mean.”

“Mostly Simon’s drug problem,” Isabelle answers. “He had a habit of disappearing for the weekend to party with his friends. I was tired of worrying about him the whole time. But it was hard to stay away, I suppose.  So, we would get back together. And then break up again. On a cycle.” 

“Did Mom and Dad know?” 

“For the most part. How long were you sleeping with Andrew Underhill?” They both turn around at the same time, their eyes meeting. Alec stares down at his sister, but she doesn’t look away. “It’s only fair that I get to ask questions too. We both have a bad habit of keeping secrets, Alec.” 

Alec scoffs and looks down at the counter. “Three years.” 

“That’s a long time,” Isabelle says. “I should have noticed.” 

“No one noticed, not really,” Alec says. “I would sneak out.”

“Why?” 

“ So, I wouldn’t get caught.” 

“No, I mean... why him? Why not someone our age? There were other gay boys in school. You weren’t alone, Alec.”

“It wasn’t just because he was a man,” Alec says, his voice becoming softer. “I was angry all the time. About mother and father. I wanted to get back at them. In a sick way, I guess. Have you dated anyone else?” 

“Not anyone you know,” Isabelle says. “I don’t want to sit here discussing my love life. Not like this, anyway... I miss how we used to be, Alec. I miss how we just... knew what each other were thinking.” 

Alec sighs and sits back down at the table. “Me too.” He taps his hand on the table, and looks back at his little sister. She reaches forward and starts unpacking the food, not looking at him. As she portions the food onto two plates, she stacks a generous pile of meat onto Alec’s plate, and slides it forward to him. “This is too much.” 

“You’ll get used to eating more once you force yourself to do it,” Isabelle says. Alec slides the food around on his plate, watching the sauces mix. “Alec, please.” 

“This is pathetic,” Alec mutters.

“What?” 

“I’m a grown man, sitting with his little sister watching what he eats. It’s...” 

“It’s fine, Alec,” Isabelle reassures him. “There’s no one else here. No one is judging you except yourself. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Alec says. “You’re perfect.” 

“I’m far from perfect,” Isabelle says. “Alec... I know you see this... distinction between you, and Max and I. But... there doesn’t have to be.” Alec doesn’t answer, instead taking a bite of his food. They eat in silence, although similar to him, Alec can see Isabelle’s mind racing. A  _ distinction.  _ He wanted to believe her, but he knew it would never be the same between them. After helping Isabelle clean up, Alec leaves with the bottles of  protein that would go untouched in the bottom of his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!


	8. Almost Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for late update. they are going to be coming slower, as school has started for me. 
> 
> WARNING for mentions of suicidal thoughts and depiction of injuries!!!!

Dr. Garroway watched as Alec opened his fourth bag of chips from the vending machine in the lobby of the office building. Halfway through their session, Alec had insisted he was too hungry to focus on anything, something his therapist had not expected from him. His assistant had come back up with several snacks for Alec to choose from. They hadn’t expected him to eat all of them. “Is your mouth dry yet?”

Alec shrugs, looking down at the half empty bag. “Not really,” he says, his voice muffled from the food in his mouth. “I think this is my last one.” 

“You’re stress eating,” Dr. Garroway says. “That’s new for you.” 

“I am not stressed eating.” 

“We started talking about your trip, and then you suddenly got a craving for junk food. Now you’re eating it in excess. I could be wrong. But I think you’re stress eating.” 

“I’m not a stress eater,” Alec says, putting the bag of chips down on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Not usually,” Dr. Garroway says. “But under pressure you do tend to ease your stress with something. Drugs. Smoking. Now... at least today... eating. Although, ideally you would have a healthier outlet to ease your nerves. We’ll get there eventually.” Alec sighs and brings his knees up to meet his chest on the chair. “Your request will get approved. As long as you don’t test positive for any drugs or alcohol when you get back, you’ll be good.” 

“I know,” Alec says. 

“You must still feel guilty for indirectly causing Magnus to break his arm,” Dr. Garroway says. “You told me he refused to take your apology. And now you’re accompanying him on the conference trip to help him carry his things. That seems like a fair way to apologize to me.”

“I still feel bad,” Alec admits. All week he had been slacking on his work for  Ragnor to do work for Magnus, out of guilt. It resulted in him staying a couple hours later than usual. After seeing Magnus struggle, he had offered his help with the conference in Albany. Luckily, the grad students Aline and Helen were letting him stay in their room. His parole officer had to approve the trip, but Alec knew she would. He had no slip ups since getting out that she knew of, and it was technically for work.

“You’re worried about something else,” Dr. Garroway says. He gets up and collects Alec’s trash from the table. As he walks toward the trash can, he looks back at his patient. “Care to share what’s bothering you? We still have twenty minutes left.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about Magnus since they went to dinner the week before. There was something about him that made Alec’s chest get tight. He felt guilty thinking of the other man in that way. Magnus was so successful. He was smart, and charming. He understood everything. Alec enjoyed listening to him and  Ragnor debating philosophy. Everyone was always uptight around  Ragnor . It seemed like a wildly spread fear to get something wrong around him, but Magnus was the opposite. He wasn’t afraid to call out the older man, or challenge what he had to say. Alec longed to have as much confidence as him. 

“You do know, you just don’t want to talk about it,” Dr. Garroway says. Alec sighs and leans back in the chair. “Whatever you’re worried about... I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m expecting you to call me and check in while you’re gone. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried. Going somewhere with a large group of people you don’t know might be too much for you Alec.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Alec says. “If it gets too overwhelming, I’ll just hide in the hotel room. I know how to handle myself in large crowds of people I don’t know. I have a lot of experience with it. At least at this conference, I won’t have to be  afraid someone will hit me with a night stick.”

Dr. Garroway sits back down, leaning back into his chair. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you make light of your past. It’s a good attitude to have for this week.”

“I guess,” Alec says. “All I really have to do is follow Magnus around to help him set up his presentations. I’ve... been through worse.”

“You should explore the conference on your own,” Dr. Garroway says. “You seem to enjoy working with  Ragnor and Magnus. Maybe studying history is something you can look at for your future.” 

“Absolutely not,” Alec says. “I... I stand out. Everyone there is going to be a professor, or a graduate student. I have a GED and make copies for minimum wage so I can get out of the house.”

“So? Who cares?” Dr. Garroway says. “We can’t take back the past. We can only move forward. You can’t go back in time and change who you are.”

“No, I can’t,” Alec says. “No matter how much I want to.” 

_ For a long time, all Alec could see was black. Vaguely, something would flash across his vision. A dim light. The figure of someone he didn’t recognize. He heard voices around him, talking in dull, hushed tones. None of them were familiar. When it gets quiet again, he hears the sound of a slow beeping around him. He focuses on that sound for a moment, before slowly opening his eyes. A dull light blinks on and off above him, and slowly, the rest of the room comes into focus. _

_ At first, he expects to be lying in his bunk, staring at the bed above him. But instead he’s lying alone in a hospital bed. He tries to sit up, but finds his hands handcuffed to either side of the bed frame. With a groan, he looks over, and sees an IV hooked up to his arm. There are several other people in the room he doesn’t recognize, but their beige uniforms match his own. As he shifts again, he feels a sharp pain in his wrist as he moves. Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, he looks down and sees one of the handcuffs pressing into his wrist. His eyes fall on white bandages wrapped around his wrist, discolored with a faded red. _

_ Then, it hits him. His mind drifts back to that day in the bathroom with Sebastian. It’s hazy, but he remembers his knees on the tiles. Eyes watching him. Men laughing. Sebastian’s hand pulling his hair, keeping his head back no matter how much he wanted to stare at the floor and shut his eyes. He remembers his argument with Sebastian. There were still bruises on his back from getting hit with the baton. In the yard, he could see a group of inmates getting put on a bus for their transfer. As he watched Sebastian getting onto the vehicle, he felt even more lonely than he already was. _

_ From there, his memory faded. He had no memory of how, but he knew he wanted it all to be over. His family hadn’t visited him in months. They barely answered his phone calls. None of the other inmates were his friends. Even in a sea of other people, Alec was completely alone. As he lied in his bunk, he remembered the sound of a gunshot resonating in his head. Simon’s screaming. There were voices yelling his name. Vaguely, he remembered feeling his feet getting dragged on the cement. Jace’s disgusted face when he kissed him.  _

_ “Lightwood. You’re awake,” he hears someone say. He looks over to see one of the medical staff looking at him. “Do you feel okay?” At first Alec doesn’t answer. The figure of the doctor fades in and out of his sight, turning blurry. “Any pain? We dosed you with pain killers already, but if  _ _ anything _ _ still hurts we can give you more in about an hour.”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec says, his voice hoarse. His throat felt dry, like he hadn’t had water in days. _

_ “You’re bleeding again,” the doctor says, gesturing to Alec’s wrist. “I need to change the bandage for you. If you try anything when I uncuff you, I’m going to have to call a CO.” Alec doesn’t say anything, he just watches as the employee gently peels off the gauze. It stung as he removed it from Alec’s skin, sticky from the blood. His eyes fall on the cut, and he clenches his jaw. As much as he wanted to look away, he didn’t. Instead, he forced himself to watch as the doctor cleaned it again, and then wrapped it with fresh bandages. “The COs want to question you, but I’ve held them off.”  _

_ “About what?” Alec asks. It hurt to talk.  _

_ “Where you got a toothbrush turned into a shiv,” the doctor says.  _

_ “They’re everywhere,” Alec answers. “The officers probably know where I got it, anyway,” he continues.  _

_ “The warden is concerned about the increased number of weapons in our facility.”  _

_ “It’s his job to be,” Alec says. The doctor shrugs, and writes something down on the clipboard next to Alec’s bed. Behind him, Alec spots a clock on the wall, realizing the time. “I need to make a phone call,” he says.  _

_ “You’re more than welcome to use the phones when you’re cleared,” the doctor says. “We plan on having you for the rest of the day at least, to make sure your wounds don’t get infected.”  _

_ “Please,” Alec says. “I just need to make one phone call. My mother was supposed to visit yesterday.” _

_ The doctor looks at Alec for a moment, before sighing. Alec could see his expression soften. “You can use the office phone for five minutes,” he says, his voice quiet. _

_ After being uncuffed from the bed, Alec forces himself up. As he stands, his legs wobble, and he grabs on to the bed for stability. His head was pounding, and his vision was spinning, but he manages to follow the doctor past the rest of the beds to the office. As he walks, his eyes fall on other inmates, some with swollen and bruised faces. Others were elderly, or sick, hooked up to oxygen tanks. The doctor unlocks the office, and holds the door for Alec. _

_ As Alec dials his mother’s number into the phone, he looks behind him, expecting the door to close, but instead the doctor stands there, holding it open. Gritting his teeth, as presses the dial button, and holds the phone up to his ear. On the last ring, he hears his mother pick up. “This is Maryse Lightwood.”  _

_ “Mom?”  _

_ There’s a pause on the other line. “Alexander? Is that you?” _

_ “Yeah,” Alec clears his throat. _

_ “Oh, Honey, I am so sorry about yesterday. I meant to come visit you, but I got hung up at work, and Isabelle came home for dinner. I didn’t even realize the time had come and gone until after it already happened. I promise I’ll be there next month.” Alec stands for a moment, staring at the blank wall in front of him. His mother hadn’t even showed up to see him yesterday. It was the second time in a row she missed their monthly visit. “Are you there, Alexander? Where are you calling from? It sounds different.”  _

_ “The medical ward,” Alec answers. _

_ “What happened? Are you hurt?” Maryse asks. Alec could hear the muffled voice of one of her audiobooks in the background. “Alexander?”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec says. “I... I don’t want to be here anymore, Mother. I am...”  _

_ “I know, Honey. But you have to finish the sentence the judge gave you. It will be over before you know it, and then we can figure things out from there.”  _

_ “That’s not what I mean.”  _

_ Maryse pauses for a moment. “Alec, what did you do?” Alec doesn't answer, he just listens to her breathing over the phone. “Alexander...” he hears her voice get softer. “Oh... Sweetie,” her voice cracks. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t just come pick you up. Alexander, what happened?”  _

_ “Don’t come next time,” Alec says. “For our next visit. I need time.”  _

_ “Alexander, of course I’m going to come see you. I’ll leave the office today and come see you.”  _

_ “No, I don’t want to see you,” Alec mutters. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  _

_ “Alexander,” Maryse says. “I need to know what’s happening. Have they left you alone? You need to be around other people.”  _

_ “I’m never alone,” Alec says, raising his voice. “I have never been alone since the day you dropped me off. It’s always loud.”  _

_ “Alexander, I’m going to-” _

_ “No.” Alec hangs up the phone hastily. He takes a deep breath, and looks over at the doctor.  _

_ “It sounds like you need alone time,” the doctor says. “I’m afraid you may be a danger to yourself if we put you back in general population too quickly.”  _

The ride from the campus to Albany was three hours that Alec mostly slept through while  Ragnor and Magnus argued in the front of the car. If they could barely handle a car ride together, Alec was curious about what sharing a hotel room for the next four days would be like for them. “We shouldn’t say anything to him,” Magnus says. “Ignoring him should dampen his ego enough.” 

“No, then he’ll be winning. He wants us to ignore him,”  Ragnor says. “You need to tell him about your promotion.” 

“He already knows,” Magnus says. “Everyone’s been complaining about it already. I don’t even plan on changing offices, and there’s already objections.” 

“Ignore them, then. I suggested you for a reason.” 

“So now ignoring someone is a good solution?” 

“... in some cases, yes. But not in the case of Lorenzo Rey. He deserves to know how much we despise him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knows how much we despise him. You have told him many times, Ragnor.” 

“And I would tell him again,”  Ragnor says. “It’s the only thing that brings me joy these days.”

“You aren’t excited to be done with work after this semester? You can sit at home in your pajamas. Drink wine in the morning and listen to NPR without having to worry about a student walking in to ask you questions.” 

“That is true,”  Ragnor says. “Although, my publisher and I are already in discussion about three different ideas for books.  _ Someone  _ has to write down our thoughts, Magnus. And since you refuse to even get lunch with her, I suppose I will be the one who has to take the credit.”

“Better you than Lorenzo.” 

“Don’t push me,”  Ragnor says. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.” 

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” Magnus says. “That’s why I didn’t apologize for it.” He checks the rear-view mirror, making eye contact with Alec, who was still groggy from his midday nap. The stress of packing the night before while Maryse closely watched over him had kept him awake well into the night. “Oh, did we wake you?” 

Alec looks away, glancing out the window as the buildings slowly moving by. “No,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, well, I suppose it’s not fair to keep you in the dark,” Magnus says. “Especially since at some point during the conference we’ll see Lorenzo.” He sighs, and they turn into the hotel parking lot. It was already crowded with expensive cars and people dressed formally. Alec spotted several different logos for schools across the country, mostly Ivy League. “Before he took his job, Lorenzo,  Ragnor and I used to spend late nights at the office discussing theories and conducting research. Over the summer last year, Lorenzo published an academic journal that spread around our community and won him several spreads in distinguished blogs and magazines.” 

“An academic journal that was comprised with material that Magnus and I had also helped research,”  Ragnor cuts in. “He never gave us the credit for it. It’s what landed him his prestigious new job. And notoriety in our field. And now he’s the head director of this  week's conference.”

“So, you see our frustration,” Magnus says.

“The worst part, however, is that when Magnus had the chance to call him out in front of several notable figures, he chose not to. Instead, he let Lorenzo talk about  _ our  _ research, and sat there like a deer in the headlights.”

“I  _ could  _ have,” Magnus says as he parks the car. “But then, unlike Ragnor, I wouldn’t be invited to so many events.” 

“My mother used to say my personality was an acquired taste,” Ragnor says, opening his door. 

“I don’t disagree,” Magnus says, smirking. He turns around and looks at Alec. “I know how overwhelming large groups of people can be. I wouldn’t blame you for hiding in your hotel room. I’ll only need help for my two presentations, other than those, you are free to do what you want.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Alec says, smiling at the other man. They look at each other for a moment, until Magnus opens the passenger side door and slides out. Slowly, Alec shifts, and opens the back door to get out of the car. He’s careful not to let his sweatpants ride up too far on his legs. His parole officer approved the trip, but not without making Alec put on an ankle monitor. His casual clothes covered it up, but the suit he brought to wear while helping Magnus with his presentations didn’t. He just hoped that if he acted like it wasn’t there, other people wouldn’t notice. 

The lobby is crowded when they arrive, and from a distance, Alec spots  Ragnor speaking with someone else in line to check in. Alec places him and Magnus’ bags against the wall as they wait. Several people greet Magnus as they walk by. Almost everyone makes a comment on the cast on his arm, making Alec feel more guilty. Throughout the week, Magnus had assured him that it was okay, and that he didn’t mind. the attention. Several of his students had signed it, enough to the point where it was completely covered in permanent marker.

“There’s going to be some wonderful presentations,” Magnus says. “Your pass should get you into any that you want to attend.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “It’s not exactly my thing.” 

“It could be,” Magnus says. “There’s something in history for everyone. I could study it forever. Although I do have a soft spot for Ancient Greece. And the Wu Zhou. And of course, an immense fascination with Catherine the Great.” Alec shrugs and leans against the wall.

“I just... don’t really fit in with this crowd,” Alec says. “I own one suit. The only thing I read is science fiction for fun... it’s just...”

“I know how you feel,” Magnus says. “When I first got hired as a professor many of my colleagues thought I was an undergrad. They would explain subjects to me that I had done extensive research on. One person even tried to explain to me the very thing I wrote my thesis on when I got my PhD. And for a long time, I didn’t say anything about it.” Another person walks by and shakes Magnus’ good hand, and congratulates him on his promotion. “Word does spread fast, I suppose.” 

“Why don’t you want it to?” Alec asks.

Magnus sighs and leans against the wall, his shoulder brushing against Alec’s. “It’s kind of hard to explain... I guess sometimes I still feel like the foster kid who managed to get into university, too overwhelmed to speak up in class while I let my rich peers get more opportunities than me because I was too busy working two jobs to pay for my tuition. There’s something about being surrounded by other scholars that makes me remember how inferior I used to feel.”

As  Ragnor finishes speaking to the front desk, he turns around and finds Alec and Magnus in the crowd. “Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I panic because I think I’m late for a test at school. It’s like I’m a teenager again, and the last six years of my life never happened.” 

Alec grabs their bags as  Ragnor gets closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who felt the same way as I do,” Magnus says, his voice nearly a whisper. Alec looks up, and their eyes meet, and he couldn’t help but smile at the other man, who returns the favor. 

“You don’t have to worry about changing in front of us,” Helen says that evening. Her and Aline were sitting on the bed, going over their schedule while Alec clicked through the cable channels on the television. “We’re both major lesbians. Unless you’ve been lying to me this whole time,” she turns to Aline. 

Aline hums and looks at Alec, her eyes scanning him up and down. She narrows her eyebrows, and the end of her mouth perks up. “Tall, dark and handsome... I’m tempted. But I do enjoy beautiful women.” Alec blushes, squeezing the pillow he had on his lap.

“Oh, thank God,” Helen says, lying back on the bed. Aline gently smacks her with her stack of papers.

“Should we go down to the bar and socialize with the others?” Aline asks. “I could use a glass of wine.” 

“I could too, but I’m not sure I’m ready to face all those snobs,” Helen responds.

“That’s what the wine is for,” Aline says, and Helen laughs. “What about you, Alec? Want to venture to the room full of stressed grad students and professors pretending to like each other?” 

“I don’t drink,” Alec says, looking over at the couple.

“Oh,” Helen says. “Well, we could just go down and spy on Dr. Bane and Dr. Fell.”

“As much as I would want to, we need to finish organizing our stuff,” Aline says.

“But it’s s _ o  _ fun.” Helen says. “Dr. Fell will try to drop every single little fact he thinks no one else knows. And Dr. Bane just stands there trying not to laugh.” 

“I don’t know, he’s been different lately,” Aline says. “His promotion might be getting to his head.”

“He’s nervous about the conference,” Helen says. “You know how he gets in front of large crowds.” 

“He teaches a class with over one-hundred students in it three times a week.”

“Large crowds of other educated people, not Chad taking American History 100 for his general education credits.” Helen and Aline laugh and continue organizing their notes.

Eventually, Alec can barely keep his eyes open to watch the TV, and he takes his stuff into the bathroom to change into his pajamas. For a moment, he looks at himself in the mirror. He wished that he had gotten a haircut before to look more his age. When he closed his eyes in the bathroom, he could still hear the buzzing of the other inmates at Rikers. His mind drifts to the conversation he had with his mother when she dropped him off at the campus that morning. 

_ It’s only for a few days. I’ll be fine.  _

_ I know... but the last time you  _ _ left _ _ it was for six years. I can’t help but feel scared that you won’t return again.  _

Alec’s thoughts are interrupted by Helen and Aline bursting into laughter. He sighs and starts changing. Once his shirt is off, he looks at himself in the mirror for a moment. Throughout the week, he had helped Magnus around the office, including at lunch time. It resulted in Magnus inviting him to lunch every day. In the last five days Alec ate more than he had in years. Even in the short time period, he could see the weight gain. His hip bones weren’t as prominent. He runs his fingers down the side of his ribs, brushing against the slight bumps in his skin.

Once he’s dressed, he brushes his teeth and then checks his bag for his prescription. The front pocket is empty. He opens every pocket and unzips every crevice of the bag. Feeling himself starting to panic, he dumps out everything in the bag, and picks up every article of clothing, hoping that the bottle will fall out. “Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes. He remembers grabbing the bottle and placing it on his bed to pack it. But then Max walked in to ask him something, and Alec checked the time. He didn’t want to be late, so he rushed to finish packing, and the bottle was still sitting on his bed. “Shit.” His mother and therapist told him to call them if he needed anything, but he didn’t want to. They already didn’t trust him to go on the trip at all, and he didn’t want to prove them right. 

After packing up his stuff, he opens the door, his eyes meeting with Helen and Aline’s. “Is everything okay?” Aline asks. “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop... these walls are thin. You sounded distressed.”

“I’m fine,” Alec says, walking over to his bed. “Thank you again, for letting me stay in the room. I really appreciate it.” 

“No worries,” Helen says. “It’s super nice of you to come help Dr. Bane. One of us would have been stuck with him all week if you hadn’t offered.” 

“Yeah,” Alec says. He sits on the bed and swings his legs up onto the mattress. He hears a small gasp from one of the girls, and realizes they spotted his ankle monitor. The group sit in silence for a moment, until Alec pulls the blankets over his legs. “You can ask... it’s your right to know who you’re rooming with.”

“It’s your business,” Aline says. “We trust you.”

“I am curious though,” Helen says. “To be honest.”

“It’s the only way my parole officer let me go on the trip. I... was in prison for a long time for something I did when I was eighteen while under the influence. You don’t need to worry about me or anything.”

“We aren’t worried,” Aline says. “If we were, we wouldn’t have offered you the other bed in our room.” Alec takes a deep breath and leans back onto the pillow. “We’ll get out of your hair. But seriously, don’t even worry about it, okay?” 

“Okay,” Alec says, closing his eyes. He hears the girls leave the room and turn off the light, but he doesn’t fall asleep for hours, instead thinking about how nervous he was for the day ahead of him.

In the sea of people using the breakfast buffet, Alec couldn’t spot Magnus anywhere. He stacked a napkin with several pieces of toast to distract himself while he waited for the other man in the lobby. On his fifth slice, he sees Magnus out of the corner of his eye, and hastily throws the last slice of bread in the trash. He barely swallows by the time Magnus walks up to him. “Good morning, Mr. Lightwood,” Magnus says.

Alec looks at the professor, confused. He hadn’t called him by his last name since he started the GED class. “Good morning.” He starts to follow Magnus down the hallway to the conference room where he would be doing his presentation. It was only late morning, but several of the rooms were already packed with people. Every time they passed someone, Alec was convinced they would look straight down at his ankle and start judging him. Luckily, monitor blended in with the black suit better than he thought. That morning was the first time he had gone without his mood stabilizer in months, but he didn’t feel any different. He was starting to wonder if it was a placebo, some sick way for Dr. Garroway to make him believe he was getting better when he wasn’t.

“I’ve left my box of props in the car,” Magnus says. “Hopefully it wasn’t so hot that they melted.” They walk silently to the car and back to a large conference room with boxes of plastic imitations of stone tablets. Alec doesn’t recognize them as he sets them up in an order instructed by Magnus. He can feel the tension in the  professor's voice.

“Are... are you okay?” Alec asks, and Magnus looks over at him.

He sighs and plugs his laptop into the projector. “I’m fine, this is hardly my first presentation on early Roman poetry... but it’s not anyone else's either. If I’m being honest... I despise this conference every year. No one is original. If I miss something, someone else will bring it up. It’s just a... competition to see who knows the most knowledge.”

“I thought you liked the competition.” Alec says, sitting next to Magnus at the table. “You always banter with  Ragnor . Isn’t it the same thing?” 

“ Ragnor doesn’t do it because I’m much younger than him,” Magnus says. “He does it because we’re friends... You know... Despite the circumstances, I am glad that you’re here.  Ragnor is... so caught up in proving himself at his last conference that he barely talked to me this morning. I’m  afraid he’ll realize how... how much he doesn’t need me. Or like me... Not just him, everyone here. What if they just... laugh at me and walk out?”

“No one is going to walk out of your presentation,” Alec says. “They all chose to see you, right? They must know who you are.” 

“To an extent. But... if I could, next year, I just won’t go to this stupid thing.” 

“What do you mean if you could?”

“I’ll be head of the NYU department. I’ll have to go.”

“You know, in the... short time I’ve known you, your eyes light up when you talk about history. Or... when you’re teaching in general. When I was in your GED course, I... I found myself actually looking forward to the classes. I was forced to be there by my therapist. But you... you made it so... interesting. You’re compelling, you’re interesting... they’ll listen just because it’s you, Magnus.” 

Magnus opens his mouth to respond but gets interrupted by someone walking in. He turns around, watching a crowd of people walking into the room. Alec stands up, and Magnus looks up at him. His face falls, and he and Alec look at each other for a moment before the presentation starts. 

During the presentation, even though Alec doesn’t have much of an idea what Magnus is saying, he finds himself unable to take his eyes off the other man. But as enamored he was with  Magnus, he knew he had no place with the older man. He belonged in places like this. An expensive five-star hotel, surrounded by other scholars. Ive league. People who vacationed in Aspen in the winter and went to Europe for the fun of it. People who owned more than one suit. People who never had to do their own laundry. People like who Alec was supposed to be. 

As Magnus takes his last question of the hour, Alec feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He tries to ignore it, but he feels it ring again. And then again. The moment the crowd starts to disperse, he steps out into the hallway. “Max?” He hears his younger brother breathing on the other line. “Hello?”

“Mom and Dad are getting divorced,” Max says. He talked slowly, pronouncing every syllable meticulously. 

“Are you drunk?” Alec whispers into the phone, turning his back on the crowd. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, and I’m fine,” Max says.

“Max.” 

“Seriously, it’s fine.” 

“It’s eleven am on a school day.”

“I know,” Max says. “It’s fine, I’m home now. I just got home, actually. The walk of shame,” he laughs. “Mom’s home too. I’m hiding from her in the bathroom. She’s pissed. I was out all night.”

“Should I come home?” Alec asks. 

“No, no, it’s fine... Alec... it’ll be fine. I just... did you know you’re the only person in the world who gets me, and we barely know each other?” Alec leans against the wall, his chest feeling heavy. “Last night I had dinner with Dad and Camille so he could tell me the news... it’s not a surprise... but... I stepped too far. I started questioning her.” 

“Camille?” 

“She’s the one who leaked that video of you,” Max says. Alec feels his heart start to beat harder. He could hear it in his ear. “I knew it wasn’t any of us. I... I’m good with computers. It’s why I got into so many good colleges.” 

“Max, what are you talking about?” Alec asks, his voice so quiet he can barely hear it in the crowd of people. “I... I don’t like talking about that.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, but... I figured it out. And she knew... she knows. She’s pissed.” Max says. In the background, Alec can hear his mother’s voice yelling from behind a door. “Fuck... I’m not drunk, okay? I had one glass of champagne at dinner last night. But Camille made it. She’s fucked up, Alec.” Before Alec can respond, he hears Max mutter something to himself. “I need to go. I’ll be fine. Mom’s freaking out.” The line goes dead. 

Alec stands there for a moment, staring at Max’s name on his phone screen. His hand was shaking. He felt dirty, like everyone surrounding him in the hallway knew his dirty secret. They had all been on that website and watched him betray his parents on camera. Mind spinning, Alec stumbles back into the conference room to find Magnus and another man putting the props back into the boxes. 

The other man is taller than Magnus, with long hair in a loose braid that hung over a neatly pressed bright red suit. He had well-groomed facial hair, trimmed just right, highlighting his high cheek bones. His eyes were a dark, and he smirked and he talked to Magnus. “Alexander, there you are,” Magnus says. “This is Lorenzo.” 

“Dr. Rey,” the man says, holding out his hand. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I published a book in the last year, it’s on every student’s reading list.” 

Alec shakes his hand weakly, trying his best to focus on the conversation, but his head was pounding. “Alexander works for  Ragnor and I at the school,” Magnus says. “He doesn’t bother himself with boring books about old bones.” 

“Boring books about old bones get grants,” Lorenzo says, wiping the sweat from Alec’s hand off on the front of his suit, pursing his lips. “A team, led by me of course, are travelling to Europe at the beginning of the summer for an expedition to further add to the research I’ve already done But, I’m sure your summer is going to be great. You know, maybe you could catch a show at the Met. Those are always fun.” He smiles at Magnus, and then nods at Alec, before walking out of the room. 

Magnus mutters something, but Alec’s mind is somewhere else. He couldn’t stop thinking about his call with Max. “Alexander?” Magnus asks. “Are you okay?” 

Alec looks at Magnus, narrowing his eyebrows. At first, he doesn’t answer. “I... I’m fine, I just...” 

“Your face is red,” Magnus says. “You’re sweating. And shaking. Did something happen?” 

“No,” Alec answers, raising his voice. “It’s fine. I need to take this stuff back to the car.” 

“I can get someone else to do it,” Magnus says. “Hotel staff is around. You should go back to your room.”

“It’s fine. It’s my fault you can’t carry it anyway,” Alec’s voice wavers as he starts to take deep breaths. 

“Are you having a panic attack?” Magnus asks, bringing a hand to Alec’s arm. “Start counting your breaths until it gets easier to breath.” Alec closes his eyes, and he finds himself sitting in the dark cell again, throwing up while he and Jace sweat through their clothes.  _ Start counting your breaths. What’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell me?  _ Before he realizes it, Alec drops the box of props onto the conference room floor and storms out of the room. As he pushes past the sea of people, their neatly pressed suits warp into the  beige prison uniforms. 

“Do you need assistance sir?” An employee asks, stepping in front of Alec. But on reflex, Alec backs up against the wall, as if he’s getting patted down by a correctional officer. “Sir?” 

Without answering, Alec pushes past the man and steps into the elevator. It’s crowded with other people, and he’s pushed up against the door. In his reflection, he can see tears starting to stream down his face, but no one says anything. As the doors open, he stumbles out, hastily walking toward his room. He slams the door behind him and collapses onto the bed, burying his face into the hotel pillow. Luckily, Aline and Helen were somewhere downstairs. As he cries into the pillowcase, eventually, everything around him fades. 

_ Andrew walks into his room, holding out a glass of water. Alec takes it hesitantly, holding it with both hands. “I have to get ready for work soon,” Andrew says. “You should get home. Don’t you have school? Aren’t your parents worried?”  _

_ “They’ve barely been home all week,” Alec says. “It’s not like they check on us anyway. They probably think I’m home in my bed.”  _

_ “You should be home in your bed,” Andrew says. “Alec... I can tell that something is different about you recently. I know you and your friends drink and smoke... but you’re... thinner. You’re paler. You’ve broken out. You’re doing something else.”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec says. “It’s none of your business anyway.”  _

_ “I can get you help,” Andrew says. “There’s places you can go anonymously.”  _

_ “I’m fine, Andrew,” Alec says, his voice softer this time. “Trust me.” Andrew looks at Alec, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously.” Andrew sighs, and walks over to his dresser, looking away from Alec. Alec could tell not knowing was bothering the older man. But he also knew he wouldn’t say anything to his parents. That would require an explanation about why he had seen Alec recently, close enough to notice something was wrong. _

_ “You know...”  _

_ “I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t come over here for a lecture,” Alec says, standing up. He walks up behind Andrew, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I came over here for something else.”  _

_ Andrew turns around, facing the younger man. “You’re taller than me. You didn’t used to be.”  _

_ “I’m an adult now,” Alec says. _

_ “You’re still in high school,” Andrew says. “Have you looked into colleges yet? I’m a UCLA graduate myself.”  _

_ “I didn’t apply,” Alec says. “My parents think I did, though. I’m a good liar.”  _

_ “I know you are,” Andrew says. “Alec... whatever is going on with you... you need to stop. Nothing good can come from it.”  _

When Alec opens his eyes, he’s lying on his hotel bed, drenched in sweat. His suit clung to his skin, twisted. He groans and forces the coat off, and then slides off the bed, struggling to unbutton his dress shirt. Just as he’s on the last button, the door opens, and he falls back, hitting the other bed. Aline and Helen look at him with wide eyes. 

Aline quickly shuts the door behind them, and the two women walk further into the hotel room. Alec catches a glimpse of the time, nearly ten p.m. He had been asleep for over ten hours. “Is there someone in here we should know about?” Helen asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or were you waiting for us? Did we not make it clear enough that we’re lesbians?” 

“Stop giving him a hard time, Helen,” Aline says. “Have you been sleeping since you got back? When did you get back?” 

“Dr. Bane’s presentation ended at like eleven,” Helen says. “You look like shit. Has it been that long? How are you going to sleep tonight?” 

Aline sits on Alec’s bed, looking down at him. “What’s wrong? Should we call someone?” 

“I’m fine,” Alec says, his voice hoarse.

“You must be going through a lot,” Aline says. “I know we don’t know much about you... and you don’t know much about us... but we aren’t judging you if you’re going through something. Large crowds like this can be overwhelming. We’re here for you if you need us.” 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Alec says, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long. I didn’t even mean to sleep at all... I just... I didn’t realize how exhausting this would be.”

“You aren’t talking about the conference,” Aline says. She reaches out her hand, and Alec takes it hesitantly. She pulls him up to sit on the bed next to her. “Helen and I met in the dorms freshman year. Our rooms were next to each other. And over time, all the study sessions, pizza parties... even just doing laundry together was too much. I could barely even look at her without shutting down.”

“It wasn’t until I knocked on her door at 3 a.m. that we finally admitted we liked each other,” Helen says. 

“I knew it was real because I had my retainer in and she still wanted to kiss me,” Aline says. Alec looks between them, confused. Aline sighs, and shifts on the bed to face him. “What I’m trying to say... is that being around the person you like all the time can be frustrating. And it’s going to keep building up if you don’t do something about it, Alec.” 

“What are you talking about?” Alec asks, pulling at his shirt collar. 

“We’ve noticed the way you look at Dr. Bane,” Helen says.

“And the way he looks at you.” 

“I didn’t know that two people could have eye sex over a stack of files,” Helen says. Aline laughs, but Alec just bites his lip. “I’m kidding,” Helen continues.

“Do you need anything? Food? Water?” Aline asks.

“I need to shower,” Alec says. He stands up and gathers his pajamas from his bag. “I smell bad.” 

“I don’t disagree with you,” Helen says. Aline glares at her. “What?” 

“I’m serious about what I was saying,” Aline says. “If you need anything. Just to talk, or whatever... we’re here for you.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alec says. 

“I’m serious about what  _ I  _ was saying too,” Helen says. “You can have sex with Dr. Bane in real life, not just in your head. Consensually, of course.”

Alec doesn’t answer, and walks into the bathroom. “Helen, seriously?” He hears, but as he turns the water on, the voices of the two women gets drowned out. As he finishes undressing, his mind drifts back to the phone call he had with Max that morning. He didn’t have any missed calls since then. He couldn’t stop thinking about what his younger brother said.  _ You’re the only person in the world who gets me.  _

As the water runs down his back, he closes his eyes. Even though he had slept for hours, he still felt tired. He knew he would feel different from not taking his prescription, but he didn’t realize how quickly it would happen. Magnus had another presentation the next day and he needed to be ready to help in the morning.

Alec stood under the water until it turned cold. His skin was red and pruning. He turns it off and grabs a towel. As he looks at himself in the mirror, he runs his hands over his body, feeling every crevice where a bone stuck out too much. It made him feel comfortable. The idea of gaining the weight back made him scared he would go back to who he was before  Rikers. He didn’t understand. Simon never did the time, and seemed completely different. Yet years later, Alec was still the same person. A coward. 

He sighs and sits on the toilet seat, a towel wrapped around his waist. He pondered if Helen and Aline were serious. Did Magnus share the same feelings as Alec did? Was Alec even sure he had feelings for Magnus? He opens his phone, intending to call Dr. Garroway, but it was nearly midnight now, and he didn’t want to wake him. He wasn’t sure if he could tell him he forgot his  prescription . His entire life, his mother had been telling him  _ I told you so,  _ and he wasn’t sure he could take it from his therapist too.

Sleeping for so long had calmed him down, at least enough that he wasn’t shaking or sweating anymore. The shower distracted him, but now he was wide awake in the middle of the night. Since he had started his job, his sleep schedule had been fixed. Working distracted him. He hadn’t been staying up all night, thinking about Simon and Jace, or closing his eyes and convincing himself he was in his bunk.

Without thinking about it, Alec opens his phone contacts and scrolls to recently contacted. He clicks on the number and dials. As it rings, he holds his breath. On the last ring, he picks up. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Alec says, his voice louder than he wanted it to be. “I think about you every day. When I wake up. At work. Before I go to sleep.” He stands, holding his towel up with one hand. “Every time you walk out of your office to get coffee, or tea... I try to stare without getting caught. Ever since I ran into you at the art auction, I’ve felt different. I felt like despite barely knowing me, you knew exactly who I was, and I want to get to know you. I want to give you head. I want to feel you inside of me. I would let you do it in your office. If you’re into that.” 

The other line is silent for a moment, and Alec feels his heart beating so loud he was convinced he was going to cough it up. “I’m flattered, really, Alexander... although sleeping with my assistant may turn into quite a scandal. And I have a feeling you may have the wrong number.” 

Alec doesn’t respond for a moment, before groaning and leaning against the counter. “Dr. Fell, I am so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that. I am so unprofessional, and-” 

“Don’t bother,”  Ragnor says. “You should buy a lottery ticket.” Alec sighs into the phone speaker. “Magnus is asleep, but I decided to read on the balcony before I turned in for the night to calm my nerves. I do believe this is going to be one of my more memorable conferences...” 

“I am so sorry,” Alec repeats.

“Tomorrow the breakfast café opens at 6:30 a.m. I expect you to meet me at the table next to the juice machine. Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble, but I do believe it’s time we talked about something. Don’t be late.” 

Ragnor was on his third coffee of the morning. Alec wasn’t sure when he and Magnus broke their bet, but it was apparent that it was recently. He poured copious amounts of sugar and creamer into the mug. It was still quiet in the room. The first presentations of the day didn’t start for three hours, everyone else was asleep. Alec had stayed up all night talking to himself in the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what  Ragnor wanted to say to him, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

“You know, I think you are the best assistant I’ve ever had in my many years of teaching,”  Ragnor says. “You’re patient. You’re quick. You’ve never complained behind my back... that I know of. When Magnus mentioned you to me, I must admit, I was a little nervous. I’ve never had someone with a record work for me before. But it seems like you enjoy it.” 

Alec picks at the muffin sitting in front of him with his fork. “I’ve had worse jobs,” he says. 

“On the surface, it seems like you and Magnus are complete opposites. Alexander Lightwood. First son of Robert Lightwood, new CEO of one of the biggest businesses in New York City. Upper class, raised in Manhattan. Private school. Until six years ago... but we all have secrets.” Alec stabs the muffin, tearing it in half. His fork scrapes against the plate, making a screeching sound. “I’ve known Magnus for years, and yet... there is still so much about him that I don’t know. I do know that he adores his little GED class at the community college. But this past year something was different. Then I met you.” 

“He offered me the job because he thought I was a good student,” Alec says. “I helped tutor some other students. It was his way of thanking me.” 

“Yes, of course,”  Ragnor says. “But Magnus doesn’t... socialize with his students. He doesn’t walk out of the classroom with them alone. He certainly doesn’t stay late in his office with people. Aside from myself and Catarina, Magnus doesn’t have anyone. And there’s a reason for that. One that’s a mystery to me.” 

“What is the point of this?” Alec asks, gesturing between himself and the professor. “If this isn’t about the phone call last night... then why did you want me to meet you?” 

“Magnus is not just my colleague. He’s a close friend. And as one of his close friends... I think if you’re considering pursuing him romantically, you should be prepared. It won’t be all sunshine and rainbows, Alexander.” 

“Nothing ever is,” Alec says. “I’m not going to do anything anyway. When I called, I was... I don’t know. Sometimes I’m... impulsive. I got lucky that I accidentally called you and not Magnus.”

“Regardless of what you decide... Magnus saw something in you that he doesn’t see in other people. It’s why he wanted to spend time with you. But you should be ready for a relationship if you’re planning to pursue one. Just something to think about.” 

The rest of the conference happens faster than Alec realizes. While he’s helping Magnus, they barely talk. After his presentation, Alec hides in his room the rest of the day into the next, sleeping for hours at a time. Sleeping was the only way he could keep his mind off of Magnus or Max. Aline and Helen made sure to bring him food for every meal, but it went untouched. He had several missed calls from Dr. Garroway and his mother, he knew he would be lectured when he got home. It’s not until the last day of the conference when he gets a knock at the door. 

He opens it, dressed in his sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. “There you are,” Magnus says. He’s dressed casually, in his high-waisted jeans and a NYU sweatshirt. “I’ve missed seeing you around.” 

“Yeah, uh... this whole... conference... just isn’t my thing, I guess.” Alec says, running his hand through his hair.

“You were really distant yesterday, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Magnus says. “I could tell you were self-conscious about your... uh...” he looks down at the ankle monitor. “No one said anything to me, if it’s any consolation.” 

“No... I’m fine, I just... I’ve been so tired... and the hotel bed is so nice, it’s kind of hard to want to get out of it.” 

“Yeah,” Magnus says, smiling awkwardly. “My mother used to stay in bed for days. It must be... appealing.” 

“Uh... yeah.” They look at each other for a moment. “Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, well... sort of... I...  Ragnor hasn’t seen Lorenzo all week, but tonight is the wrap-up dinner. Lorenzo will be speaking, and I’m... concerned about what  Ragnor will do when he sees him. It’s his last conference, so I need to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. I was hoping you could accompany me. In case things get ugly, I can’t really drag  Ragnor away, and...” 

“Sure,” Alec says. “It’s what I’m here for.” They walk silently down the hallway, to the elevator. On the main floor, in one of the ballrooms everyone is taking their seats, dressed in suits and dresses. As Magnus and Alec walk around, everyone looks at them funny, making comments about their attire. “Shouldn’t you be going to this thing too?” Alec asks.

“It’s not required,” Magnus says. “And I would much rather sit in my room watching a documentary than force myself to be polite to people I don’t know. But once  Ragnor gets some... liquid courage, he can be... more extra than usual, to put it in simple terms.” 

After a couple of minutes, they depart down a less crowded hallway, toward the backdoor of the ballroom. In the distance, Alec can see  Ragnor’s tall stature cowering over Lorenzo, in a heated argument. “If I could I would slap you,” Lorenzo mutters. “But I don’t want to get charged with elder abuse.” 

“That’s funny,”  Ragnor says. “Magnus and I should be up on stage with you talking about that book and you know it,” he says. 

“Tell that to  my agent, maybe he can add you to the book tour in the fall.” 

“Ragnor,” Magnus says as he and Alec approach. “Leave him alone. Everyone’s taking their seats.” 

“You wouldn’t give him a piece of your mind,”  Ragnor says. “ So, I will instead. It needs to be done.” 

“It’s too late anyway-” 

“And who’s fault is that?”  Ragnor asks. “If you weren’t such a coward, Magnus, then maybe-”

“ Ragnor ,” Magnus interrupts, raising his voice.  Ragnor looks over at him, and sighs. He looks back at Lorenzo once more, giving him the nastiest glare Alec ever seen, before turning around and walking away. “This isn’t over, Lorenzo,” he says over his shoulder. In the ballroom, Alec hears clapping, and someone starts speaking. 

“He’s right, you know,” Lorenzo says, looking at Magnus. “You’re too soft, Magnus. I knew what I was doing when I approached the publisher about our theory.  Ragnor is too brash, he would want all the credit. I enjoyed working with you before my transfer. But... it’s so easy to talk over you, I figured everyone would think I did all the work anyway. You’re a passionate educator. But you aren’t going to get much further than that. This is for the best.” In the ballroom, someone announces Lorenzo’s name, and he straightens his tie. Magnus sighs, and starts to walk away, but Alec can’t bring himself to move. “What are you, his body guard?” 

Alec tightens his fist. He could see how Magnus’ face fell when Lorenzo spoke to him. He had seen it throughout the convention. Magnus was shyer around everyone. He seemed scared to talk about subjects he had spent hours researching and preparing to talk about. “You’re jealous,” Alec says, his voice quiet. He relaxes his hand. “I barely know you, but I can see it. Magnus is twenty years younger than you, and he already has the same position you do. But that’s not only it,” behind him, Magnus stops walking, turning around to watch. “Magnus is charming. He’s intelligent. He’s a passionate educator because he’s a kind person. You’re just a fucking nerd, who hides behind the work of other people to feel like his dick is big. But when you walk out of this conference, into the streets of New York, no one is going to know who you are. No one cares about your book in the real world. And you know that. You’re a lonely person. I can see it. Magnus might not have  _ this  _ book deal, but he will in the future, and you know that. So, have fun with your stupid book tour. Because every night you’re going to be sleeping in an empty hotel room because you’re so insufferable no  one's wants to be around you.” 

Lorenzo looks at Alec, his eyes wide. He opens his mouth to respond, but his name is called again in the ballroom. Alec can see his lip quiver, and he hastily turns around and opens the door. Everyone in the room claps as he enters, then the door closes.

Magnus and Alec head back upstairs silently. Alec looks down at the floor the whole time, at his worn converse, and the ankle monitor. When they reach their floor, they stop in front of Magnus’ room. “I’m so sorry,” Alec says, his voice quiet. “This is your professional life. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my place to-” he’s interrupted by Magnus grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him into a heated kiss. Alec’s frozen in place at first, but quickly falls into the rhythm. Magnus reaches around Alec, unlocking the door, and they stumble into the hotel room. 

As they make their way further into the room, Alec trips over something on the floor, and they fall to the carpet. He lands on his back, but ignores the pain as Magnus’ hands travel up to the back of his head. The professor’s mouth tasted like mint gum, and he smelled like expensive cologne. After a minute, Alec feels Magnus’ mouth start to travel, kissing his cheek, then down his neck to his collar bone. Realizing what’s happening, Alec puts his  hands on Magnus’ chest, gently pushing him off. “Wait,” he whispers.

“No one’s ever stood up for me like that,” Magnus says, catching his breath. He gets off of Alec, lying on the floor next to him. “Lorenzo looked like he was going to cry,” he says, chuckling. 

Alec laughs, sitting up. “I was really mean to him.”

“He deserved it,” Magnus says. He gently sighs and reaches forward, his hand resting on Alec’s. 

Hesitantly, Alec wraps his fingers over Magnus’ hand, squeezing it. “I know.” 

“You don’t need to worry. Lorenzo won’t tell anyone about what happened. He would be too embarrassed that someone psyched him out right before going on stage.” Alec shrugs, and they sit in the dark for a minute, their hands intertwined. “I didn’t mean to move so fast,” Magnus says. “I should have asked if I could kiss you.” 

“I wanted you to,” Alec says. “I’ve... wanted you to for a long time.”

Magnus scoffs. “Well... I’ve wanted to for a long time. I just... I wasn’t sure, if... if you wanted me to, and...” he trails off for a moment. “Maybe... if you want to... we could start with dinner after work on Monday?” 

Alec looks at the other man. His eyes drew him in, even in the dark. When he looked at Magnus, he couldn’t help but feel his chest start to pound. “I would like that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!!!


	9. Willow Weep For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of eating disorders, sexual assault (nothing explicit or in detail), and drug use

The car ride back to the city was quiet. Alec and Magnus smiled at each other through the rear-view mirror, earning a few comments from  Ragnor . Alec spent most of it leaning against the window, watching the scenery go by. They dropped him off outside his apartment building, and as he waved at Magnus, his chest felt tight. As he opens the door to the apartment, he first notices a pile of trash sitting on the counter. Takeout boxes from one of the places his mother frequented were scattered around. It was unusual for her to leave trash out. 

As Alec ventures further into the apartment toward his bedroom, he comes to stop in front of the bathroom. Max is on the floor next to the toilet, leaning against the shower. His face is bright red, and his cheeks are swollen. “Are you okay?” Alec asks, dropping his bag on the hallway floor. “Are you sick?” He walks in, kneeling next to his brother. The stench of vomit surrounded him. 

“I didn’t realize you would be home,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “I’m fine. I just finished,” he flushes the toilet before running his hand through his hair. 

Alec reaches forward and rests the back of his hand on his little brother’s forehead, but it’s cold and clammy. “What happened? Where’s Mom?”

“I’m fine, Alec,” Max says, pushing his brother’s hand away. “I’m not sick. Not in the way you think,” he sighs and forces himself up. He sways from side to side, and Alec grabs his shoulder, stabilizing him. “Mom’s with Dad, meeting with his lawyer. Even through their divorce, she’s carrying him through everything.”

“Are you drunk?” Alec asks, watching as his brother brushes his teeth. 

After he spits the toothpaste into the sing and rinses out his mouth, Max looks at Alec through their reflection in the mirror. “I know substance abuse is your thing, but not everyone needs to get drunk or high to deal with their emotions.” Alec clenches his jaw and steps back. “I’m sorry,” Max says, looking away. “That was stupid.” 

“You’re purging,” Alec says, stepping out of the bathroom. He picks up his bag and walks to his room, Max following. “It makes sense. There’s a bunch of boxes in the kitchen. That’s a lot of food. You don’t have a fever, there’s no alcohol.” Max sighs and leans against the door frame. “How long?” Max doesn’t answer. “Max.” 

“Since I was fourteen,” Max answers. Alec’s face falls, and he sits on his bed, looking down at the floor. 

“Jesus Christ,” Alec mutters. “How?” 

“It’s not hard to keep secrets from Mom and Dad. You know that.” 

“Max, this is serious. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

“Like overdosing on heroin?” Max asks, frowning. “I mean... I know it technically never happened, but it would have. We both know that. You know... it’s easy to deal with everything by getting high. And I wish I had it that easy. Because my throat hurts, and my teeth are rotting. And no one noticed. Until now.” 

“I know destructive behavior better than anyone in this family,” Alec says. “It’s not  gonna make Dad care any less about what school you’re going to. And it’s not  gonna make Mom any less uptight. No matter how much you want to get back at them for making you feel like shit all it’s going to do is hurt you and them in the end.”

“You slept with Andrew Underhill for years, all because you knew it would make Mom and Dad angry,” Max says. He walks forward, sitting next to his brother. “But they didn’t know about it until now.”

“It tore their marriage apart.” 

“No, it didn’t,” Max says. “They fell out of love a long time ago. You were in prison. It wasn’t entirely that... it’s just... I think their whole thing was about being a perfect family. After that,  it kind of went to shit.” 

“What happened with Camille the other day?” Alec asks. 

Max groans and leans back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Alec joins him, and for a moment they stare at the off-white paint. “She was Dad’s rebound after him and Mom decided to see other people. She promoted him. But I knew something wasn’t right. She has hollow eyes. There’s nothing there.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“The video of you surfaced from our IP address. I knew none of us would have done it. The only other person who has been here was Camille. At dinner the other night... I snuck into her office. I didn’t find anything with you... but I did find some bank records in a separate file. The company’s name was on them. It wasn’t hard to put it together. But she knew. That's when she got mad, and she spiked my drink thinking it would scare me.”

Alec shifts to his side, facing his little brother. “Max.” 

“Look,” Max says, typing something into his phone. He hands it to Alec. It was open on a YouTube video from the city’s news outlet. His father was standing at a podium. Next to him stood two of his lawyers, Alec recognized them. There was a group of press standing in front of him.  _ I am here to make a statement under the direction of my legal team. Camille Belcourt and I will be handling our involvement in this case as separate parties. What was released to the press was true. I will not be taking any questions at this time.  _

“ What is h e talking about?” Alec asks as the short video comes to an end. 

“The money from the art auction,” Max says. “None of it went to charity. They were all fake. They all have credible websites when you look them up but each of them  are linked to Camille Belcourt. The bank records confirmed it. I don’t know how involved Dad was... but he and Camille committed fraud, and now the police are looking into all her records.” Alec lays back down on the bed, looking back up on the ceiling. They lay in silence for a few minutes. Suddenly, Alec starts laughing, and he feels the mattress move as Max sits up. “What?” 

“We’re going to lose everything,” Alec says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“He admitted to fraud... to the press directly. Imagine what kind of lawyers he’s going to need to try and get the lowest punishment a judge will give him.”

The next few weeks with Magnus go by slowly. The two men mostly talk about small things. Their days. What the best food places are in town. Magnus lent Alec his science fiction books, and they would discuss theories about the characters. In his office, when no one was around, they would share soft, gentle kisses. Magnus’ hands were always soft, and they smelled like cherry blossoms, courtesy of the lotion he kept in his desk. One night at dinner, Alec learned that the professor spoke four languages. He ordered for them in Indonesian, the first language his mother had taught him. Although, he would later boast about how he taught himself French during one summer because he was bored. And the Czech came naturally, as he wanted to be prepared for a vacation to Prague.

After getting home late at night, Alec would lie in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how someone so smart and compassionate could ever share his feelings. As the semester came to an end, he became jobless. At home, his mother and Max were constantly fighting. Isabelle never came over anymore, and rarely returned Alec’s texts. It felt like he was back in prison, stuck behind closed walls while life moved around him. 

“I appreciate you helping me out with this,” Alec says to Aline and Helen on the last day of finals at the university. Together, the three of them round the corner to  Ragnor’s old office, dragging in Magnus’ couch. It was messy, but they finally moved all of his stuff from one office to the other. “I can finish organizing everything from here. I think I remember the layout.” 

“Of course, you do,” Helen says. “You have been spending quite a lot of time in there recently.” Aline elbows her side. “Hey-”

“It’s what he deserves,” Aline interrupts. “Even if he doesn’t think so. Dr. Bane is the best teacher I’ve ever had. And I’m so happy that he’s taking over the program in the fall. He deserves the big office.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, scratching the back off his head. “His last class ends in an hour, and I want to surprise him, so...” 

“We won’t keep you,” Aline says, reaching into her backpack. “But we do want to give you this.”

She hands him a pastel pink envelope, already open. Alec peaks inside, and pulls out an off-white card, engraved with gold cursive writing. “You’re...  engaged ?” 

“It happened a few weeks ago,” Aline says, smiling. Helen reaches her arm around the other woman’s shoulders and squeezes. “We were keeping it secret for a while... but we want you and Dr. Bane there. It’s happening at the end of the summer. It’s going to be super small.” 

“I’ll try to be there,” Alec says, smiling. Both of the women surge forward, pulling him into a tight hug. He reciprocates hesitantly, wrapping his arms around their backs.

“And don’t be scared to reach out,” Helen says. “We don’t really have plans this summer... aside from the wedding thing... so we should hang out.” 

“Sure,” Alec says, and after the couple is gone, he starts organizing the new office. He starts with the books, sorting them onto  Ragnor’s old shelves by subject, a system Magnus had mentioned to him. It takes most of the time, and by the time he’s finished, he rushes to put the files in the desk drawer. He’s finished with the second drawer by the time Magnus gets back. 

“Alexander?” Magnus asks, standing in the doorway. “What’s with this mess... is this my stuff?” Alec nods, nervously, his face turning red. “In  Ragnor’s office?” 

“Well... all of his stuff was gone... and I know you liked the small office, but you deserve more than that, so I-”

Magnus walks forward and puts his  hands on Alec’s arms. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “I... Thank you. I appreciate it so much, I...” He hugs Alec, resting his head on his chest for a moment. “I didn’t want to admit that  Ragnor is... finally done, I suppose. Which means that I am... Dr. Magnus Bane... head of the department... it just didn’t feel real. Until right now.” Alec hugs him back, squeezing his back. 

“It took me forever to get all those books up, so this is your office now,” Alec says, and Magnus laughs. They spend the rest of the evening setting up his desk, and then go to dinner. Outside the subway station, they kiss goodbye, and Alec finds it hard to let go of the other man’s hand. 

Max’s graduation comes and goes, and his party lasts long into the night. Alec hides in his room, avoiding the few family friends that came to support him. Not many people from the company came, even though they were invited. Robert’s presence only caused tension between them. Most of Max’s friends showed up, although Maryse kept them in line and watched the alcohol table. It’s not until after the last group of people leave that the fighting starts. 

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you,” Max yells from down the hallway. “It’s my life. I’m an adult now, I can do what I want.” 

“Maxwell, you can’t just throw your life away like this,” Maryse says. “Not when you have the choice to go an ivy league school. You have the best connections. I don’t understand why you’re changing your mind all of a sudden.” 

“It’s not sudden, I just can’t tell you anything!” Max yells. “My friends and I have been planning this all year. And it saves you money. Gas is a sure of a hell a lot cheaper than college tuition.” 

“I already said no. You are not mature enough to go on some spontaneous road trip with your friends. You just graduated high school. You’re still a child.” Instead of responding, Alec just hears Max slam his bedroom door, and Maryse’s heels click to her own room. He sits in silence for a moment, before his mind drifts back over a month before to when he found out about Max’s coping behavior. He was hesitant to tell Maryse about how his brother dispensed of his anger. He knew she already was dealing with so much, finding a new job since the company folded. Not to mention her own therapy sessions, and her regular arguments with all of her children.

After an hour, he hears Max open his door, and then the front door closing. He looks out his window, down at the street, and then watches as his brother walks across the street in the dark, toward a fast-food place. With a sigh, Alec gets up and knocks on his mother’s door. 

“You did the right thing,” Dr. Garroway says, tapping his pen against his knee. “Max might not realize it now, but he will thank you for it in the future.” 

“He won’t talk to me,” Alec says, sighing. He sips the coffee he had gotten before his session, relishing in the artificial, overly sweetened creamer. It was something Magnus had introduced him to. Before, he would force black coffee down his throat, now, it felt like a treat. “I was the only person he would talk to... kind of... and I ruined it.” 

“The outpatient program I recommended is top notch,” Dr. Garroway says. “He’s getting the best help he can get.” 

“But he doesn’t want it,” Alec says. “He’s not trying.” 

“Neither did you when we started,” Dr. Garroway says. “Healing takes time. It’s been months, and we’ve only breached the surface of understanding who you are. Eating disorders are the deadliest mental illness. You’ve saved his life.” 

Alec shrugs and leans back in his lounge chair. “I know, I just...” he sighs into his coffee. “It’s kind of made me... think differently about Rikers.” Dr. Garroway nods at him to continue. “Simon... has been to rehab more than once. He’s overdosed before, on accident. Prison has been the worst part of my life. But what if it’s what saved me? I wasn’t getting better. I was getting worse. If I’m being honest... I would be dead if I didn’t get arrested.” 

“That is one way to put it,” Dr. Garroway says. “It is a fact that getting arrested forced you to go into withdrawal. But you almost died there too, Alec.” Alec shifts in his seat and places the empty coffee cup on the table. “You’re alive right now because you make the choice to stay alive every day. You choose to take your medication and go to therapy instead of letting yourself become consumed by your thoughts. Although, it is good that you are seeing some positives in your negative experiences.” 

“Negative experiences...” Alec repeats, looking past his therapist, out the window. Outside, the street was busier than usual, with tourists flooding the city for their summer vacations. It was one of the reasons he wanted to hide in his room all day. “That’s kind of sugar coating it.” He feels his mood drop, even though he didn’t understand why, and didn’t want it to. He wanted to understand why some words made his emotions flip from one side to the other.

“I tend to try to use... flowery language with my  patients sometimes I suppose. When I need to,” Dr. Garroway says. 

“I’m fragile,” Alec says. “I get it.” 

“You aren’t fragile, Alexander,” Dr. Garroway says. “If you were fragile, you wouldn’t sitting here right now.” Alec bites his bottom lip and brings his knees up to his chest. “Something is bothering you.” 

“Something is always bothering me,” Alec says.

“Well, we are here to discuss what is bothering you. If you so choose to share.”

Alec taps his fingers on his knees for a moment. “I... I really like Magnus.” 

“That I know,” Dr. Garroway says. “You have been dating for a little over a month.”

“He’s an adult. I’m an adult,” Alec says. “And... usually... adults have sex with each other sooner than later in a relationship.” 

“That is also true,” Dr. Garroway says. “But if something is bothering you, I’m sure Magnus will understand. Has he pushed you at all?” 

“No,” Alec answers, quickly. “We haven’t even been to each other’s apartments. I just... It’s stupid... but sometimes I just feel like... he’s going to be done with me after. And I just feel like I’m a stupid teenager that he’s going to...” he trails off, his mind drifting to Andrew. “It’s my fault, but sometimes I just...” 

“Andrew Underhill was the adult,” Dr. Garroway says. “I know you blame yourself, because you went to his apartment. But he should have seen a struggling boy, not a sex partner.” Before Alec can respond, his therapist gets up and walks to his desk, digging through one of his drawers. He writes something down on a business card. “For your next session, we are going to meet here,” he walks back over to Alec, handing him the card.

“No,” Alec says, tossing it onto the coffee table. 

“Alec, it’s going to help-”

“I’m not telling a bunch of strangers about how I was a stupid teenager who cared more about getting back at my rich parents than my own  wellbeing .” 

“It’s an anonymous group,” Dr. Garroway says. “Everyone there has been through something similar to you. You aren’t alone in this, Alec.” 

“Isn’t it your job to listen to me?” Alec asks.

“Yes,” Dr. Garroway says. “But talking to people who can truly understand what we’ve been through helps us work through it. I don’t think that not being ready to have sex with Magnus is going to end your relationship. But... holding all of your feelings in is only going to make it harder. Relationships are about communication. And if you aren’t sharing who you are with your partner... Well, I know the outcome all too well.” 

Alec sits sandwiched in between his brother and sister on the couch in Isabelle’s apartment. In the kitchen, Clary spoke in hushed tones with Simon. It happened accidentally. Maryse was meeting with Robert and his lawyers, helping him work through what he would say to the judge. Camille was going to court with lawyers even more expensive, trying to save herself from the prosecutor. After wondering the streets for a while, Isabelle invited her brothers to dinner. But then Clary and Simon walked in from their day out, unknowing that the Lightwood siblings would all be there. It ended up in an awkward dinner of pizza.

Alec couldn’t tell why, but he sensed a tension between Isabelle and Clary. Every time he glanced over, Isabelle fixed her eyes on the screen, but he could tell she was trying to listen to Simon and Clary’s conversation. Max would barely talk to Alec, and sat tapping his foot on the floor during the film. Since starting treatment, Alec noticed that his cheeks looked thinner, and the bags under his eyes were fading.

Simon ventures out of the kitchen, making eye contact with Alec. He looked more tired since the last time they hung out. For a moment he pauses, watching as on-screen Napoleon Dynamite starts dancing on the stage. He laughs, and looks over at Alec. They make eye contact for a moment, and then Simon walks out. After a minute, Alec gets up, and follows him. Behind him, Max and Isabelle whisper to each other. 

As he reaches the elevator, Simon looks up. He sighs, a small cloud forming in front of him. The doors open, and the two men step inside. Alec takes the dab pen from the other man’s hand, and takes a hit. Just as they reach the bottom floor, he blows it out, coughing. Simon snickers and they walk out into the lobby, then to the sidewalk. “Clary can be so demanding sometimes,” Simon says, his voice hoarse. It had been a few weeks since they hung out, and Alec noticed how much more drained the man seemed. His hair was longer, sticking out from behind his ears. When he spoke, Alec noticed how chapped his lips were.

“I remember well,” Alec says, taking another hit from the pen.

“ Of course you do,” Simon says. He leans against the brick wall of the apartment complex. “I know you never liked her. It was obvious in high school.” 

“I try not to think of high school,” Alec says. The air was cooling down after a hot day, filling the streets with even more people. 

“I didn’t used to until you got out,” Simon says. “Besides...” he trails off, but they both know what he was talking about. “I used to get so mad at you and Jace, you know. Clary and I have known each other since we were kids... and I  was in love with her. When you started getting jealous, I thought you liked her too. But I was wrong.” Alec looks over at him, his gaze low. “You were in love with Jace. I didn’t put it together until recently... I’m such an idiot.”

Alec chuckles under his breath. “Not any more than I am. Thinking he would ever like me the way I liked him. I was so stupid.” 

“Now I get why you... did what you did in court,” Simon says. “For years I didn’t understand it. Now I do. But... don’t you regret it?”

“I deserved it,” Alec says. “I wasn’t lying.” 

“But we agreed-” 

“I know what we agreed,” Alec snaps. Simon looks at him for a moment, before turning away.

“I’m trying to make it worth it,” Simon says. “I quit my job and applied at an office. Somewhere I can at least use my degree.” 

“Can’t your mother get you a job at her firm?”

“I want to do it the right way,” Simon says. “I’m trying to make it fair. Jace didn’t have connections like we did. He was doing everything on his own... his scholarship...”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” Alec says.

“I know, I’m just... I owe him,” Simon says. 

“What do you owe him? Your drug addiction?” Alec asks.

“I owe him my life. You know that,” Simon stretches, resting his hands on the back of his neck. “Sometimes I forget that.” 

“It was his choice,” Alec says. “He was self-destructive.” 

“We all were. We all are.” 

“Don’t you regret it?” 

“Every day,” Simon says. “When I wake up. When I eat my breakfast. When I work out. Eat lunch. Walk down the street. Drink coffee. I can’t go more than ten minutes without thinking about it.” 

Alec feels his mind start to get groggy from the pen. He sighs and rubs his temples gently with his hands. “It’s kind of obvious,” he says, his voice quiet. Simon doesn’t respond. “You’re twitching... your skin is paler. Your hair is greasy.” 

“I’ve been depressed,” Simon answers.

“You’ve been getting high,” Alec says. “Not just on weed. It’s obvious you re-”

“I can’t relapse if I never got better in the first place,” Simon snaps. A couple walking by look at them, their eyes wide. The two men wait for a few more people to walk by before talking again. “Rehab was all... talking about our feelings. Drug tests. Learning how to deal with pain in a healthy way. But no matter how much weight I can lift... or what I write in a journal... or whatever... it doesn’t bring people back to life. And it doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.” 

“Then why don’t you say anything?” Alec asks. “Your mother is a lawyer.”

“She would never believe me,” Simon says. “Even if she did, she wouldn’t represent me. It’s been six years. I... I don’t know what to do.” 

“I don’t either,” Alec says. “I... I did what I was supposed to do. According to the judge, I guess.”

Simon sighs and slides down the bricks, his shirt riding up his back. Alec follows suit and sits next to him on the sidewalk. “The only way I can distract myself... from myself... is when I’m high. And you and I both know that weed isn’t enough. I don’t understand how you’ve been coping.” 

“I don’t,” Alec says. “Not... not really. I guess... I distract myself. I talk to my therapist. But you know... my life is falling apart even more now.” 

“Your famous father and his scandal with Camille Belcourt,” Simon says. “That is so rich white-collar. Have you talked to him?” 

“He’s still my dad...” Alec says. “If anything, he’s more remorseful now. Maybe now he finally doesn’t care about his legacy. Now that he’s part of ruining it. My mom quit her job and can’t find anything besides cheap freelance work. I’m a felon. I thought Max was overwhelmed... but I didn’t realize how much and now he’s in an inpatient program. At least we have Isabelle to carry on the Lightwood name.” 

“Isabelle...” Simon whispers, then he sighs. “She was too good for me,” he says. “Way too good for me. I’m surprised we dated for so long. She was getting her degree, and got a job at a high-end gym. She’s beautiful. She’s the sweetest person on the planet. And she stuck around with me after everything I put her through.”

“Yeah... I’m not sure I’ve appreciated Isabelle as much as I should have,” Alec admits. 

“Me neither,” Simon says. “God... I miss her so much.”

“Me too,” Alec says. “We fight most of the time now. We didn’t used to...” 

“You changed.” 

“She did too.” 

“Not as much as you,” Simon says. “I mean... Isabelle is maybe a little less trusting now. She’s a little more closed off. But... I mean, come on, Alec. The people we were before we met Jace are completely different than who we are now. To be honest, sometimes I barely even recognize you.” 

“Prison does that to you,” Alec says, looking down at his shoes. “Not that you would know.” 

_ As the police car moves through the city, as quick as it can in the traffic, Alec finds himself staring at his hands. Next to him, Simon is crying, his eyes red and cheeks swollen. He buries his head in between his hands, muttering to himself. “I don’t know what to do,” he says in between short breaths. “What do we do?”  _

_ “Stop talking,” Jace says under his breath. “You’re making my headache worse. And you’re going to say something incriminating.” Alec knew that he had been to juvie before, but he wasn’t expecting his friend to act so rehearsed in front of the officers. _

_ Alec’s knuckles were bruised, the purple pigment already forming. Blood stained his skin, blurring in and out of focus the longer he stared at it. His hands shook, they had been shaking since the moment his fist collided with the shop owner’s cheek bone. He had never fought anyone in his life. Whenever he got bullied as a child, he had walked away. Lightwood’s were above fighting. That’s what his parents always told him.  _

_ “We’re horrible people,” Simon mutters. “Horrible people. We are disgusting. We’re-” _

_ “White trash,” Jace says. “Burn outs. Hopeless. Criminals. Scum of the earth. You’re going to hear all of it. I’ve heard it before plenty of times. Congratulations, we are one in the same. Even if you get to live in a  _ _ luxury _ _ apartment.”  _

_ “Shut up,” Alec snaps. “Just... shut the fuck up. You’re making it worse. He’s freaking out.”  _

_ “I’m only saying what you’re thinking,” Jace says. “I wish I never met Jace Herondale. He ruined my life.”  _

_ “Shut the fuck up, Jace,” Alec yells.  _

_ “You all need to be quiet,” the officer in the front yells. “Now.”  _

_ Jace and Alec sink back into the seat, and glance at each other. Alec’s face falls, and Jace smiles at him, softly, reassuringly. As their eyes met, Alec knew he was willing to do anything to stay with the other boy.  _

“I know I shouldn’t be buying any more books,” Magnus says. “But I’m a sucker for mystery novels. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s my filthy secret.”

“There isn’t anyone to tell,” Alec says, following the other man down the isle of the book store. It was close to the university, two stories and full of other patrons.

“I thought you might have been keeping up with Aline and Helen,” Magnus says.

“They’ve been busy planning the wedding I guess,” Alec says. 

“You assume,” Magnus says. “You haven’t called them yet, have you?” 

“...No.” Alec watches Magnus’ hands as he flips to the synopsis of the book he’s holding. He dressed different now that he wasn’t teaching. His clothes were brighter colors, mix and matching different fabrics and patterns. His fingers were adorned with several rings. He often kept his shirts halfway unbuttoned, revealing the top of his chest. At dinner, Alec couldn’t take his eyes off of the other man’s chest. “You always know... things.” 

“Things?” Magnus puts the book back and moves onto the next new arrival. 

“Things that I’m thinking. I don’t understand how.” 

“That’s not true,” Magnus says. He flips through the book for a moment. “You are actually a very unpredictable person. Perhaps the most unpredictable partner I have ever had.” He snaps his head up, looking at Alec. They stare at each other for a moment. “I...” Despite consistently seeing each other for over six weeks, they had yet to put a label on their relationship. “Should I call you that?” 

Alec looks away and picks up a book, flipping open to the middle of it. His eyes rest on the words, but he doesn’t read them. “I... I would like that,” he says, his voice quiet. He doesn’t look up, but he feels Magnus shift, brushing their shoulders together. For a moment, he focuses on the book, his eyes falling over the words. He had never had a solidified relationship before. He used Andrew Underhill to forget about his problems, they never even had breakfast together the morning after. Sebastian and him were never monogamous, and the way it ended sent chills down his back. 

After Magnus picks out a book, he guides Alec to the science fiction section. “Pick out something you like, and I’ll buy it for you.” 

“Magnus, no... you don’t need to.” 

“I insist,” Magnus says. “I want to buy you something.” 

“What are you now, my sugar daddy?” Alec asks, smirking. 

Magnus leans forward, their faces inches from each other. “If that were the case, I would be treating you to a lot more, Alexander,” he says, his voice deeper. They stare at each other for a moment, and Alec feels his knees getting weak. He grabs a book without even reading the title, and they walk to the register. 

After they check out, the two men descend down the sidewalk. “Thank you,” Alec says as they reach a stop light. “For the book.” 

“Reading is one of my favorite ways to pass the time,” Magnus says. “I know you’ve been going through a lot. I figured you need some sort of distraction.” 

“You are much bigger of a distraction than reading is going to be,” Alec says. Before Magnus can respond, there’s a loud clap of thunder above them, and within seconds rain drops are falling onto them. The crowd around them starts to disperse as people move to stand in the doorways of the buildings.

Alec looks around for a moment, unsure of where to go, when Magnus grabs his hand. “My place is only a few blocks away,” he says. He starts down the sidewalk, and Alec follows, jogging behind him. After a few minutes they reach the apartment complex, and Magnus scans his key to unlock the door. By the time they reach his apartment, both of the men are soaked. As they walk in, they both start to catch their breath, standing in silence for a moment. 

The main room in the apartment was open, connecting the living space to the kitchen. It was neat, even the quilt on the couch folded with no creases. Only one of the cushions on the black leather couch was indented, in the center in front of the television. The walls were well decorated, many of the work featuring Catarina’s signature. A couple book shelves line the walls, loose papers sticking out in a few places. There’s a used mug on the counter next to the kettle, the tea bag still inside. It was clear that Magnus spent most of his time at the university as opposed to his own apartment.

“I’ll get a towel,” Magnus says, disappearing around the hallway. Alec slowly walks further into the apartment after kicking off his converse. There was a hole in the bottom of one of them, and the puddles leaked through it into his sock. Magnus walks back and hands Alec a towel. Alec watches as the other man unbuttons his shirt all the way, revealing the rest of his torso. His eyes travel down from Magnus’ clavicle, down his chest to his navel. He bites his bottom lip and looks away. “I might have a couple old t-shirts somewhere in my closet,” Magnus says. 

“No, it’s okay,” Alec says, wiping the water off of his face. “I should get going soon anyway.” 

“Alexander it is pouring outside,” Magnus says. He slides off the rest of his shirt and turns around, his back facing Alec. Alec’s eyes fall on his shoulders, well-defined with muscle. He sighs and covers his eyes with the towel, drying off his hair. “It’s nearly dinner time anyway. I’ll order something.” Before Alec can respond, Magnus walks over to the kitchen, pulling a menu off of the fridge. “There’s a wonderful Indian place I order from frequently.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Alec says. He stands near the door, watching as Magnus places an order. 

“You can walk in,” Magnus says. “I know it’s not much, but-” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says. He walks forward, slowly, and Magnus meets him near the couch, placing a towel on it.

“I’m only teasing,” Magnus says. “I thought by now you would be able to notice,” he smiles, and Alec smiles back, feeling his cheeks turn red.

“I know, I just...” Alec trails off. Magnus sits on the couch, patting the cushion. Reluctantly, Alec sits down, and their knees bump against each other. “I guess I’ve never really been... brought home before.” 

Magnus chuckles and turns on the television. “It’s nearly five,” he says. “Golden Girls will be on soon. In case you were wondering what I typically do on a Friday night during my summer vacation.” 

“It sounds better than sitting in your bedroom listening to your parents argue for hours,” Alec says. “I’m sorry, that sounds so insensitive.” 

“No, no, don’t apologize. That is your reality right now,” Magnus says. “I’m sure it’s hard... with your father and everything. He’s been critiqued pretty harshly in the news outlets.” 

“Well, he deserves it,” Alec says. “I knew my dad was shady. You have to be in his line of work... but I didn’t picture him stealing charity money. It’s an entirely different level of... evil, I guess. But... to be honest... in a weird way I’m sort of... happy he got caught. Now that there’s a possibility of him losing all of his money and us losing everything... there’s even a possibility of jail time. He knows his days with us are numbered. He actually suggested another family therapy session.” 

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Magnus says. “Are you going to mention it to Luke?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “It’s... complicated. It doesn’t feel real sometimes. He barely visited me when I was in prison. Now suddenly he wants to spend time with me like it’s going to make up for years of a strained relationship.” 

“Family is complicated,” Magnus says. On the T.V. screen the show starts, distracting the two men while they wait for the food. Over the course of the episode, Alec feels Magnus inching closer, until their shoulders are pressed up against each other. 

At the commercial break, Alec looks away from the T.V., his eyes falling on Magnus’ bare shoulder. The other man looks over too, and they make eye contact for a moment before Alec leans forward, catching Magnus’ lips in a soft kiss. It’s slow at first, but after a minute Alec finds himself getting lost in the touch of the other man. They had never been completely alone before. Whenever they were together it was in public. 

After a few minutes of gentle touches, Alec feels Magnus’ hand squeeze his shoulder, pulling him closer. His hand travels to the back of Alec’s head, and Alec moves closer to him. His mind becomes cloudy, and after another moment he feels Magnus’ hand sliding up his thigh. Just as he feels the other man break from his lips and start kissing down his neck, the doorbell rings. The two men sit in silence for a brief moment, before Magnus gets up and walks to the door. Alec leans back on the couch, staring at the T.V. He takes a couple deep breaths before joining Magnus in the kitchen. 

As they sit down to eat, Magnus looks back over at the T.V. “You are such a Dorothy,” he says. 

“What?” Alec mumbles, his mouth full of rice.

“From the show,” Magnus says. “You’re rough around the edges. You’re closed off. But you know to say the right thing when you need to.” 

“I guess,” Alec says. “I don’t really know much about it.”

“I don’t mean to stereotype,” Magnus says. “But Golden Girls is sort of part of gay culture.”

Alec shrugs. “I guess I’ve never really been... much into it. I was closeted, and then I went to Rikers.” 

“Oh,” Magnus says. He scrapes his fork on the plate. “Well... I have every episode on DVD. It’s a long watch... but I have the time this summer. If... if you like coming to my apartment.” Alec sees his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “As much as I love sitting in coffee shops and book stores with you... I do like being hidden from the public eye.”

“Me too,” Alec says. They finish eating, keeping up small talk about the show, before returning to the couch. Outside, the storm picks up, flashing bright lightning. As the episode comes to an end, the channel switches to another old show, one that neither of the men recognize.

“So...” Magnus says, trailing off. He turns his head and looks at Alec, and Alec feels a chill go down his back. Alec reaches forward and grabs Magnus’ hand, feeling the softness of his palms. “Should I...” 

“Yes,” Alec answers without needing Magnus to finish his question. Magnus cups his cheek and starts kissing him. After a moment Alec feels the other man’s tongue against his own. He feels Magnus’ hands on his hips, sliding under his shirt. Magnus pulls away from his mouth, and kissing down his neck, to his collar bone. Alec’s arms wrap around his back as he sucks on the skin, leaving a mark. “Magnus,” Alec says, his voice breathy. Magnus’ hands shift around to the front of Alec’s navel, his fingers barely breaching his sweatpants. As the other man’s hand travels down beneath his pants, resting over his underwear, he gasps. “Magnus, I...” he closes his eyes as Magnus’ hand moves slowly. When he opens them, his face is pressed against the wet wall of the communal shower at Rikers, a man’s hand holding his cheek in place. Around them, other men are showering, some laughing, some glaring at Alec. Alec closes his eyes, trying to focus on the man behind him, drowning out his surroundings. “Stop!” Alec says, raising his voice. 

Magnus pulls his hand out from beneath Alec’s pants and scoots back on the couch. Alec counts his breaths, running his hands over his face. He leans forward, staring down at the wood floor. “Are you okay? Alec?”

Alec looks over, feeling his chest start to calm down. “Yeah, I... I’m sorry, I...” 

“Don’t apologize,” Magnus says. “It’s okay... I... I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured, or-” 

“No,” Alec says. “It’s not you... I... If I’m being honest, I... I think about you all the time. Even before we...” he takes another deep breath. “I want to... but I... I don’t know. I just... I’m sort of still working through my past. And I... I don’t want to lose you, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to sleep together.” 

“Alexander,” Magnus says, tilting his head. “I am more than willing to wait as long as you need to. Sex isn’t what makes or breaks my relationships. I like you because of who you are, not because of your body.” He holds his hand out, and Alec looks at it for a moment, before reaching forward and grabbing it. Magnus runs his thumb up and down his hand, comforting him. Outside, the rain continues to pour. “We have other ways to pass the time.” 

Magnus leads Alec down the hallway, past a few more of Catarina’s paintings, into a small room. It’s an office, with another bookshelf stuffed to the brim. The desk is messy, papers scattered everywhere. In the corner there’s a keyboard plugged into the wall, and Magnus sits down on the small seat. “I didn’t know you played,” Alec says, watching as Magnus flips through a book of sheet music.

“Oh, I just dabble here and there,” Magnus says. “My mother used to play before she...” he trails off, looking away from Alec. Slowly, he starts playing chords on the keyboard, dabbling for a minute before settling. As he falls into a slow rhythm, to Alec’s surprise, the other man starts singing.  _ “Willow weep for me,”  _ he starts, his voice soft.  _ “Bend your branches down,”  _ he continues with the song, and Alec becomes transfixed. The song continues, Alec watching with his mouth agape. “ _ Listen to my plea... hear me willow... and weep, for me.”  _ After another few slow chords, the song comes to an end, and Magnus runs his fingers up the keys to the top, hitting the highest note. 

They sit in silence for a moment, before Magnus turns around. “Wow,” Alec says. “I... I didn’t realize you were so talented.”

“It’s not much... really...” 

“It was amazing, Magnus,” Alec says. Magnus stands up, turning the keyboard off. “I... I really enjoyed that. Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing, I-” Alec interrupts the professor by gently grabbing the back of his head and kissing him, softly. Magnus brings his hands up to rest on Alec’s forearms. “My mother used to play Billie Holiday when I was a boy. It’s one of the only... positive... things I remember about her. I use the piano to try and keep the memory alive.” He walks around the desk and opens the top drawer, digging through it. “I’ve never shown this to anyone,” he says, holding out a picture, “but I want to show you.” 

Alec takes the photo reluctantly, holding it up to look at it. It depicts a young boy, clearly Magnus from his smile. His cheeks are round, and his eyes are bright. There’s cake all over the front of his shirt, some on his chin. A woman sits next to him, laughing, caught candidly. She looks like Magnus, with the same dark eyes and wide smile. There’s cake on her too, staining an apron. Her arm is wrapped around the boy, holding him as close to her as she could. “Is this your mother?” 

“Yes,” Magnus says, his voice quiet. “I... I know I don’t talk about her often... this was at my third birthday party. She baked the cake, and when she wasn’t looking, I dug into it before she could even put the candles on. By the time she realized, it was too late, and she just started singing. I remember both of us eating the cake with our hands. Billie Holiday was on the CD player.”

“She’s beautiful,” Alec says, handing the picture back. Magnus takes it, gives it one last glance, and puts it back in the drawer. 

“She was probably high in the photo,” Magnus says. “But I try not to think about that.” He leads Alec out of the office, their fingers linked together. “My mother loved Billie Holiday because of her beauty. Her simplicity. She sang with such... grace... despite everything bad that happened to her. But in the end... they both died because of their drug addictions.” Alec follows him back to the couch, watching as Magnus digs through his DVDs to find season one of Golden Girls. He couldn’t help but wonder what the other man saw in him, because in his mind, Alec represented the thing that had hurt Magnus the most. 

_ Alec’s hands clench the sides of the coffee table as Andrew finishes behind him. The wooden legs screech against the floor, and Alec sighs as he feels the weight of the older man lifted off of him. Andrew collapses on the couch, zipping up his pants. For a moment, Alec lies on the wood, his eyes falling onto the magazines that he had knocked off. He groans and forces himself up, but stops for a moment to feel behind him. “Andrew...” he complains. The name still felt foreign on his tongue. For a long time, he had been calling the other man by his last name, but Andrew insisted on being called his first. “I told you to use a condom.”  _

_ “I did...” Andrew answers, still catching his breath. “It broke. Let me help,” he says, grabbing a box of tissues from next to the couch.  _

_ “It’s fine,” Alec says, sliding back until his knees hit the floor. They were bruised from a bad fall he took skating with Simon and Jace. “I can-” _

_ “Just... let me help,” Andrew says, his voice gentle. Alec feels his hand grasp his hip, pressing into the bruise that had formed the day before. The office had just closed a big deal, and his parents took a couple days off to regroup before returning to work. This meant going out to dinner as a family, and hearing about how he should apply himself to school more. His father lectured him about how his hair was getting too long. His mother lectured him about his recent history grade. He was no longer in the top ten rank in his class. Alec had been to Andrew’s house three days in a row just to let out his anger. “Please.”  _

_ “Okay,” Alec says, his voice quiet. As the older man helps Alec get cleaned up behind him, he stews on the feeling deep in his stomach. It had been brewing for a while, but he didn’t understand what it was until now. He was disgusting. He had been living a double life. He was a different person to his parents, and to his friends. As he lied there, staring at the magazines, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Andrew didn’t notice.  _

Alec sat next to his father in their living room, his eyes glued to the T.V. as they watched the news together. Maryse and Max had gone out shopping. She had been keeping a close eye on her youngest son since his inpatient program started. Just as the footage switches to a press conference Camille hosted, Robert changes the channel to an old western movie. On the screen, the sheriff is chasing someone on his horse, gun drawn. 

“What did it feel like when you got arrested?” Robert asks. Alec looks over at his father, his eyes wide from the question. “I mean... did they tighten the hand cuffs too tight? Or were they...” 

“I walked out of the store with my hands up,” Alec says. For a moment, he swears he sees red and blue lights flashing in front of him. “They shoved me against the window. Hard enough that my chest was bruised the next day. Then they cuffed me.” Robert sighs and leans his head back, hitting it against the wall. “But they aren’t going to do that to you, Dad.” 

“Things aren’t going well, Alexander,” Robert says. “My legal team has advised me to prepare accordingly.” 

“They aren’t going to throw you into Rikers Island,” Alexander says. “From experience... there weren’t any white-collar businessmen in my bunk. Men like you don’t have to wear the jump suit, or share the showers. I know we share blood, but we are two different people.” 

“We are drastically different people,” Robert says, crossing his arms. “But maybe not so much anymore.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Dad,” Alec says. “If they even give you time, you’ll go to the most high-end, private facility there is in New York.” Alec believed what he was saying, but somewhere deep down in his mind, he secretly wanted to watch his father be locked up the same way he was. As penance. 

“I’m aware of what the possibilities of my sentence are,” Robert says. “But I still can’t help but feel scared. Most of all I feel guilty. I wanted what was best for my family. But I’ve lost sight of that. Camille... has the allure of power. She can ruin anyone in this city if she wanted to. And I was so... convinced that with enough status, I could somehow fix us. And finally make my father proud, even in his grave.”

Alec stares at the television for a moment. His entire life he had been so caught up with living up to the Lightwood name. When he realized it was impossible, he did whatever he could to escape the guilt. He never imagined his father feeling the same way. “Grandfather would be proud of you,” Alec says. “He would just be angry that you got caught.” 

“Alexander, don’t speak ill of the dead,” Robert says, and Alec wonders if he cried at the funeral or not. Were they real tears? Or just for show? Was anything his father did real? “Although... I don’t disagree with you.” 

“What does Camille Belcourt have that Mom doesn’t?” Alec asks.

Robert sighs, his body sinking further into the couch. “When I met your mother, it was like I had found my other half. We both grew up wealthy, New York natives. With the same career goals. We had been taught the same manners. How to be perfect. But then... you were born, and I saw something in Maryse... change. The ice in her heart, which I loved, started to melt. Don’t get me wrong, I loved your mother and you children... You are the most important thing to me in this world. But when our marriage started to fall apart... I could look at Camille, and I saw the greed I was longing so much for. Although, I must admit, I never pictured her going so far to cover her tracks.” 

Alec pulls his knees up to his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“The video,” Robert says, and Alec feels a lump grow in his throat. “It was dirt on Andrew Underhill,” he continues. “He figured out what we were doing, and she threatened him. At the expense of me and my son. I have many regrets. I do. But I think... my biggest one... is letting her get to you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! I know this chapter is a little shorter than the others but I wanted to get it out. School keeps me really busy so sorry for later updates.


	10. Orange Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much! so sorry this took so long, school is just horribly busy!

“You didn’t have to do this,” Alec says, looking over at his therapist in the hallway of the clinic. “I could have come by myself.” 

“I wanted to show my support,” Dr. Garroway says, filling up a small paper cup with water from the dispenser. “Besides, I didn’t trust you to come by yourself.” 

“It doesn’t sound like you have much faith in me,” Alec says.

“I have faith that all of my patients will make an effort to get better,” Dr. Garroway says. He sips the water, finishing it off in one gulp and crushing the cup. “But as much as you try to distance yourself from your family, you are a Lightwood. And from my experience with your family, you are all very-” 

“Criminal.” 

“Good liars.”

Alec sighs, watching as a couple people walk into the small room. “I want to go home. I can’t do this.” 

“Alec, what have we been talking about all summer?”

“My brother.” 

“Facing your fears.” 

“I don’t fit in here,” Alec says. “I’m not some college student who got roofied at a frat party.” 

“I know that you know that this can happen to everyone,” Dr. Garroway says. “And you aren’t the only man. Alec... these people are going to understand you in a way that no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to. I’ll be here when it’s over to pick you up.” 

Alec takes a deep breath as Dr. Garroway ushers him into the room. A couple people look up at him, small smiles falling on their faces. He feels the  therapist's hands leave his back, and suddenly he’s alone in a room full of strangers. After a moment, he turns around to walk out of the room, when someone steps in front of him. “Alec?” Maia stands in the doorway, her eyes wide. “Are you here for group?” 

Alec stares at her for a moment, his eyes wide. He was sure that he wouldn’t know anyone in the support group. It was one of the reasons he had let himself be convinced to go. “I... I don’t know... I...” 

“I am too,” Maia says. Her smile calms him down, and he feels his shoulders fall. They texted sometimes, but he hadn’t seen her since the semester ended. Between his growing relationship with Magnus and dealing with his father’s court appearances, he hadn’t had much time to catch up with her. “Is it your first time?” 

“I... uh... yeah. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this,” Alec says. 

“I wasn’t either the first time I came,” Maia says. “But you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He follows her to a couple chairs next to each other in the circle. Around them, a couple more people gather, and an older woman stands up at the top of the circle.

“I see we have a new face tonight,” she says, looking at Alec. He feels his cheeks turn red as everyone’s eyes look over to him. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” Alec stares at her, his mouth agape. “What’s your name?” 

“Uh... Alexander,” he says, looking down at the floor.

“Well, Alexander, welcome to our support group for sexual assault survivors,” the woman says. “Everything we hear in this room stays in this room. And don’t feel pressured to say anything that you don’t want to.” Alec nods, and the group starts going around the circle. He finds himself completely drawn into what everyone has to say. As a young woman talks about her child, the product of her assault, he feels his hands start shaking at the story. She cries, and several of the group members go to her, holding her in the plastic chair. 

“I love my son,” the woman says once she collects herself. “But sometimes... when I look at him, I just feel like I’ll never be in control of my life again. It feels like I lost myself in the twenty minutes it took for my rapist to take advantage of me.” 

“I know what you mean,” Maia says from the chair next to the woman. “I’m Maia, by the way,” she says to Alec. He looks at her, his eyes wide, before he realizes what she’s doing. She was separating their lives outside of the group. Her opinion of him didn’t change because he was there. She turns back to the rest of the group. “When I was in high school, my boyfriend took advantage of me. He was a couple years older than me. At first it was small things. But over time it kept escalating, until...” she takes a deep breath. “He got aggressive. Even though I said no, he didn’t care. Because I was his girlfriend. And now that I’m an adult I wonder if the problem is me. It’s like I’m attracted to controlling guys.” 

“It’s not your fault, Maia,” the older woman says. “When you get taken advantage of, it is never your fault.” 

“I know, it’s just... I don’t know, maybe it’s part of my personality. I just broke up with my boyfriend, Jordan. We spent the whole summer apart while he was travelling and I took classes. He decided he wanted to stay in France. When I told him that I didn’t want to move, he told me I never loved him. I made the decision to choose myself. My life is in New York. And now I just feel guilty. Like I can’t be worth anything by myself.” 

“You are worth so much more than you see, my dear,” the older woman says. “You were right to choose yourself.” 

“I wish I could go back in time and choose myself,” Alec says, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper. Maia looks over at him, her gaze followed by everyone else's. He feels his body tense, and his hands grab the sides of the chair, under his thighs. “Sorry, I shouldn’t interrupt, I-”

“No, say what you need to say,” Maia says. “That’s why we’re all here.”

“I...” Alec starts, his voice shaky. “I did something bad... when I was younger. I hated my parents. They had all these... goals for me, I guess. Like my entire life was planned out already. And I wanted to make them mad. They were always so distant. Then one of their coworkers noticed me... I knew it would break them if...” he pauses, his mind drifting back to that night. He was fifteen, he snuck out for the first time, making sure to close the door gently behind him. He walked alone on the streets, looking for the apartment building. Andrew was slow, he was gently. Alec nearly walked out the door more than once. But he stayed. “I started sleeping with him even though I knew it was wrong. He was so much older than me, but I didn’t care. It made me feel like I had some sort of ammo against my parents. And I did it for years. And now... now I’m not sure if I can function in a normal relationship.” 

“ Of course you can, dear,” the older woman says. “Your past does not define you. Everyone in this room has been through something similar to you, and we all work through it and function every day.” 

“I dated one of my teachers in high school,” another woman says from across the circle. “I say dated out of habit. But looking back at it now... he was taking advantage of me. He knew that I was vulnerable. And now as an adult I use it as a way to remind myself how strong I am.”

“It’s not that easy for me,” Alec says.

“None of us have it easy,” Maia says. “All any of us want is to be able to feel normal again.”

Alec shrugs and sighs. “It just seems like... I’ll never be enough. I’ve been seeing someone this summer... and he’s kind, and patient. But I know it can’t be like this forever. He’s going to want more from me eventually.” 

“If sex is his deciding factor then he isn’t worth it anyway,” Maia says. Alec doesn’t respond, he just leans back in the chair. After a moment of silence, the person next to him starts talking, and the session moves on. 

Alec’s arms ached after helping Max carry his suit cases down to the car from the apartment. As the summer had gone on, he hadn’t realized how quickly he would be losing his brother. He was flying out to California for the semester, and he wasn’t scheduled to come back home until December. “I don’t think I’ve even seen you wear half the clothes that are in here,” Alec says, hoisting the suitcase into the trunk with a groan. 

“Izzy and Mom went a little overboard at the mall,” Max says. “Palo Alto is going to be way hotter than the city, so I guess I needed more than a couple pairs of shorts.” 

The two brothers stand for a moment, looking at each other. “I’m  gonna miss you,” Alec says. “I’ve been thinking about what you said... when you said I was the only one who understood you.” 

“I was just being dramatic,” Max says, looking away. “I’m an adult now, I should act like it.” 

“I know you choose Stanford because it was the furthest away from here,” Alec says. “And Dad wanted you to go to Northwestern.” Max shrugs and shuts the door to the trunk. “You should be careful, Max.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Max says. “I went through the whole inpatient program. I can eat a normal amount now. I’m fine.” 

“It’s not that easy,” Alec says. “Just because you went through the twelve steps or whatever it doesn’t mean you’re better.”

“I already have a therapist in California,” Max says. “Mom made sure of that. And I have three roommates. If there’s anything Dad has taught me it’s how to be prideful. There’s no way I’m going to binge and purge like a teenage girl in front of a bunch of other dudes.” 

“Max.” 

“I’m just joking,” Max says. “My therapist says that it’s healthy to make light of trauma.” Alec frowns, but Max laughs anyway. 

“We’re going to be late if we don’t leave now,” Maryse says, walking to the car from behind them. “We have to pick up Isabelle on the way there.” 

“Seriously?” Max asks. “It’s only for a few months.” 

“Honey, you’re going all the way across the country.  Of course we’re all going to be there to say goodbye.” Max walks around to the front seat, leaving his older brother to climb into the back. Alec’s legs are too long, he sits with his knees up against the back of his mother’s seat. 

“What about Dad?” Max asks as they exit the parking garage. 

“He’s with his lawyers today to talk to Camille’s lawyers,” Maryse says. “Otherwise you know he would be here too.” 

“Right,” Max says. “It’s totally not about you.” 

“Maxwell-”

“No, I know, Mom,” Max says. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to hang out with my ex either.” 

“You know we’re both here for you,” Maryse says. “We’re all here for you. We’re a family.” Max doesn’t answer, instead turning up the radio. They pick up Isabelle from her apartment, and start the short drive to the airport. The traffic was typical, bumper to bumper because of the summer tourists. 

After a couple minutes, Isabelle leans forward from the backseat, putting her hand on Max’s shoulder. “You can’t get behind on your homework,” she says. “Because in college your professors aren’t going to care if you were too busy. And no partying on school nights. And if you do go to a party, make sure you don’t get too drunk. Only a couple drinks at a time.” 

“Isabelle,” Maryse says. “Max is a good boy. He’s not going to do anything like that.” 

“It’s  _ college  _ Mom,” Isabelle says. “ Of course he’s going to get drunk at a party. And if a girl wants to go back to your dorm, make sure you use protection.” 

“Isabelle,  _ gross,”  _ Max complains, groaning and leaning back in his seat.

“What? It’s natural,” Isabelle runs her fingers down the back of his head gently. 

“I don’t want to hear my sister talk about sex,” Max says.

“It’s only for your safety, Max-”

“I already got the sex talk,” Max interrupts. “From Dad when I was fourteen.” 

The car is silent for a moment, and then Isabelle gasps. “Oh my God, from  _ Dad?”  _ She starts laughing. “No way. That’s so gross. What would he even say?” 

“Isabelle, be quiet,” Maryse says. 

“Yeah,” Max says, but then a moment later he’s laughing. “He sat me down on the balcony,” he says. “And told me about how I was going to become a man soon. And that Lightwood men are a ‘man’s man.” 

“What does that even mean?” Isabelle asks.

“I still have no idea,” Max says. 

“Oh, I do,” Maryse says, smirking. All three of her children look at her in disgust. 

“Mom, that is disgusting,” Isabelle exclaims, her face scrunching up. “Oh my God.” 

“Gross,” Max complains. “Just let me out of the car now. I can walk from here.” 

“What?” Maryse asks. “I can be funny too.”

“Dad did the same thing with me,” Alec says. Max looks back at him, his eyebrows narrowed. “He told me that Lightwood men have a natural charm.” 

“You know, when I met your father, he was the most awkward man I had ever seen,” Maryse says. “He came up to me at a gala, and offered me a drink. But his hand was so sweaty from working up the nerve to talk to me that the glass slipped, and it spilled on my dress. I still can’t believe I went on a date with him after that. But back then, he had hair.” 

“I miss Dad’s hair,” Isabelle says. 

“I don’t,” Maryse says. “He moves so much in his sleep. I used to wake up with a mouthful of it.” Alec makes eye contact with her through the rearview mirror. It had been years since he heard his mother joke this much. “Speaking of waking up with a mouthful, when are we going to get to meet this new boyfriend of yours, Alec?” 

Alec’s jaw drops, and his siblings both  groan loudly. “Mom, you can’t just say that,” Max says. “This is the most disgusting conversation I think I’ve ever had.” 

“Oh, please, I’ve heard what you say to your friends-” 

“Who are you and what have you done with our mother?” Isabelle asks. Outside, Alec spots the airport, crowded with cars. 

“What? I never got to tease Alec about his first love,” Maryse says. “I’m making up for lost time.” Alec sits back in his seat, looking at the window at the large crowd of people gathered at the drop-off lane. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jace was his first love.

“Does it have to be right now?” Max asks. “Does this have to be our last conversation?”

“Honey, I know you’re going to call me as soon as you land,” Maryse says. She pulls into the lane, against the curb, and the family all get out to help Max with his bags. Maryse pulls her youngest son close, kissing him on the forehead. “I am going to miss you so much,” she says, her voice breaking.

“Mom, chill out,” Max says, hugging her back. He buries his head into her shoulder for a moment before pulling away.

“You call me every day, okay?” 

“Whatever,” Max says. Isabelle reaches over and hugs him too, squeezing him tight enough that he groans in response. 

“If you need anything- homework help, girl advice, or just someone to talk to- call me, okay?” Isabelle says. She runs her hand over the back of his head. 

“I got it, I know,” Max says. “This is embarrassing, I’m an adult now. And you’re holding up the line.” 

“Fine,” Maryse says. “We won’t keep you.” She hugs him one last time, kissing the top of his head. “Isabelle and I will move the car to the parking garage while your brother helps you with your bags.” 

Alec follows his little brother into the busy building, toward the bag checking area. They stand in silence for a few minutes, each of them watching people walk by. “You know what I’m going to miss the most?” Max says, looking over at his older brother. “Coney Island.” 

“Coney Island?” Alec asks. “We went there once when we were kids.” 

“I know,” Max continues. “I was seven. You were thirteen.” 

“Fourteen.” 

“Right.” 

“One of Mom and Dad’s college friends flew out to visit, and he wanted to go to all the tourist sites. Mom thought we would like the Wonder Wheel. We got on, and when we got to the top, you cried because you were scared of heights.” 

“I still am,” Max says. “I can barely stand on the balcony at home. I don’t understand how you and Mom can just hang out there.” 

“It’s the easiest way to smoke,” Alec says. “Walking all the way downstairs is too much of a hassle, and if I used my room Mom would kill me for the smell.” Max looks down at his feet for a moment, and the line moves forward. In front of them, a baby starts crying in a stroller, screaming loud enough to even be heard over the crowd. “I hope they aren’t on your flight,” Alec says, trying to joke. 

“What’s the best brand to buy?” 

“...what?” Alec asks, looking over at his brother.

“Cigarettes.” 

“What are you asking me that?” 

“Because...” he trails off for a moment. “What if someone wants me to smoke with them at Stanford? I don’t want them to think I’m just some little kid.”

Alec watches as Max looks around, his face turning red. He furrows his eyebrows. His brother was nervous about leaving the state, he could tell. He didn’t want to be alone. And Alec knew how scary it was to be left alone. “Mom smokes Sobranie Black Russian,” he says. “But I like the Marlboro Black 100s. They calm me down the easiest.”

“And it works?” Max asks. “To ease your stress?” 

“For a couple minutes, yeah,” Alec answers. “Not in the way I want it to.” The line moves forward, and they were next.

“How do you want it to?”

“You know I can’t answer that,” Alec says. He sighs, and the employee calls for the next person. He helps Max place his suitcases onto the scale, and the desk worker places tags on them. When they’re done, he walks Max to the security line, and hugs him for the longest he thinks he’s ever held his brother. 

“I’m going to miss you the most,” Max says into Alec’s neck. Alec doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes harder. 

“I didn’t realize we would be overdressed,” Magnus says, straightening his bright yellow tie. It matched his suit, a pastel yellow with white accents, something he picked out for the late summer wedding. Alec was dressed in his plain black suit. Since the last time he wore it, at the conference, he noticed he filled it out more. It wasn’t tight, but it was the result of having dinner with Magnus multiple nights a week. When he was with the other man, he didn’t care about how he was eating, he just ate. At night his fear would come back, that if he got back to his pre-Rikers weight, he would become the person he was before.

“Here,” Alec says. He reaches forward and unbuttons Magnus’ suit jacket, and then unbuttons the top of his white dress shirt. Then he undoes the tie, and puts it into his pocket. “Now you look more casual.” 

Magnus scoffs, and they continue walking into the venue. The ceremony was short, outside in a garden. They were surrounded by an array of sunflowers towering over them. It was an hour outside the city, a place Alec had never been before. Neither Helen or Aline wore white, instead opting for floral summer dresses. They find a seat in the middle of the room, and sit down. As Alec watches a waiter walk by with champagne flutes, he tenses his jaw and pours a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

“Well, that was beautiful, wasn’t it?” a voice asks, sitting down next to them. It’s Ragnor, still dressed in several layers despite the heat. “I’m glad to see two people so... happy.” 

“Are you jealous?” Magnus asks, leaning forward on the table. 

“No,”  Ragnor says. “Who needs love when you can just travel to London for the fall?”

“I’m sure you’ll have a blast touring all the land marks,” Magnus says. “Send me something from Big Ben.” 

“It’s nowhere I haven’t been before. So...”  Ragnor gets a waiter's attention and takes a flute of champagne. He takes a sip. “Have you decided on the class list yet? Talked about who’s teaching which class? Or is everyone ignoring your emails?” 

“I’m keeping it all the same,” Magnus says. “Although, I do have concerns about Dr. Frederick teaching Africana Studies. I know students are tired of old white men teaching all of our history.”

“Then assign him to a different course, and place someone else who you think is more fit,” Ragnor says. “He might have seniority, but in the end it’s your choice.” 

“I know, but... I’m sure he’ll just complain about it to the higher ups. I want to make a good impression my first year as the director.”

“From experience, Magnus, the dean wants professors who are intelligent, intellectual, compassionate... and not afraid to speak their mind. If you just bow down under everyone who tries to question you, the job will be out from under your feet by the end of the year. We may be good friends, but I did choose you because of your insight on the education system. You are the most passionate member of the program. I see a great future ahead of you, even at your young age.” 

“Thank you,” Magnus says. His hand rests on the table, and Alec reaches up and rests his own on it.  Ragnor finishes his drink, and then flags down the waiter for another. “Isn’t it a little early for that?” 

“It’s a celebration!”  Ragnor exclaims, he takes three drinks, and places them in front of Magnus and Alec. “To young love,” he says, holding up his glass. Magnus hesitates, but then toasts with his old boss. Alec clinks his glass with  Ragnor’s last, fixated on the bubbling liquid in his hand. As  Ragnor and Magnus drink, he slowly takes the glass up to his mouth, and takes a sip. The champagne feels like fire in his throat, sizzling on his tongue. On the speakers, music starts, and  Ragnor gets up. “Surely I’ll see you on the dance floor,” he says, before walking away to go talk to another table. 

Alec is halfway done with his drink by the time Magnus looks over. “Alexander, are you...” 

“It’s just champagne, Magnus,” Alec says. “It’ll help me relax.” 

“I just don’t want-” 

“It’s okay,” Alec says, bringing his hand around to Magnus’ cheek. He leans forward and kisses the other man gently. Magnus sighs against his lips, but reaches around to  cup the back of Alec’s head. 

After about an hour of watching people mingle on the dance floor, the music is paused for Aline and Helen to cut the cake. They watch as Helen cuts the first slice. Just as she’s about to feed Aline the first bite, Aline hits the bottom of the small plate, sending the frosting into Helen’s face. “Oh my God, I hate you,” Helen says, laughing. She smears frosting on Aline’s cheek in retaliation, and then it turns into an all-out war between the two women. By the time they’re done, their faces and dresses both have remnants of the first slice, but they’re laughing anyhow.

The first dance is slow, but halfway through, the music suddenly stops, and then the two women post with their arms crossed. The bridal party run onto the dance floor, and they start performing a choreographed dance. “I wasn’t expecting this,” Magnus says to Alec, who watches with wide eyes. “Could you picture yourself doing this?” 

“I would die of embarrassment,” Alec says. “Isabelle would, though. She’s always been the more likeable one.” 

“That’s not true, Alec,” Magnus says. “Being more outgoing doesn’t mean you’re any more likeable. You and your sister are just... different from each other.” 

“It’s always been like that. Growing up, she was more popular... at parties everyone would want to talk to her. The other kids barely even talked to me, but with Izzy...” 

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people,” Magnus says. “I know it’s easier said than done, but...” he trails off, sipping his water. After a couple minutes of watching people dancing, he stands up and holds out his hand. “Care to dance?”

Alec looks at the hand in front of him for a moment, then shakes his head. “I... I’m not sure I can... in front of everyone, I-” 

“It’s okay,” Magnus says. “I can see Catarina. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Alec nods, and watches as Magnus goes to dance with the woman. They sway together to the jazz music, smiling and talking. Magnus spins Catarina around, and then she does the same to him.

With a sigh, Alec finishes off his water, and continues watching them. As the song changes to be more upbeat, Magnus starts moving more, and a couple other people start talking to him. He laughs, patting someone on the shoulder. 

“What is this, your high school prom?” Helen asks, sitting next to Alec on the table. She was sweating, and her dress still had remnants of frosting. “You look like your date just stood you up.” 

Alec looks at her, watching her skin change colors with the flashing lights. “Congratulations,” he says. “You and Aline look happy.” 

“I’ve never been happier than this moment,” Helen says, smiling. Aline’s still dancing, now couple up with Magnus. “You know... when I was in high school, I had a boyfriend for two years. We went to prom together. I lost my virginity to him. But nothing ever felt... real... I thought maybe it was just me. I thought I was the one who wasn’t supposed to have a relationship. But then in college when I met Aline... everything just clicked.”

“I went to prom with a girl,” Alec says. “She was beautiful, and smart. And she was from a rich family, just like me. My parents loved her. And then the second I touched her boob I freaked out and told her I was gay. She just... accepted me, but it was too late for that. I had already been beating myself up for years. And now...” his eyes drift back to Magnus, his hair swaying as he shook his head.

“Magnus is changing that.” 

“It’s only been three months.” 

“Sometimes you just know.” 

“What if I’m not good enough for him?” 

“Magnus doesn’t think that way,” Helen says. One of the waiters comes by with a round of shots. She puts them on the table and takes one as Alec watches. “I know Magnus likes dancing,” she continues. Alec looks between her and the whiskey, and then back to Magnus. With a sigh, Alec stands up from the table and looks back over at Magnus. The song starts to change, shifting to a slower tune. Without thinking he reaches down and picks up two shots. He takes them as quick as he can. “Whoa, slow down.” 

“I need the liquid courage,” Alec says. Helen smiles at him, and he turns around and walks to the dancefloor just as the song starts. Magnus spots him, and his eyes light up. 

“I was just about to come back,” Magnus says. Alec wraps his hand on the other man’s side, and they start to sway. Magnus grabs his hand, and rests his other hand on Alec’s shoulder. “You smell like whiskey.” 

“I know,” Alec says. “I just... I needed it to feel relaxed enough to dance with you.” 

“Alec, I really didn’t mind.”

“But I do,” Alec says. “Sometimes when I’m with you... I feel like a teenager again. Like I... I can be the person I used to want to before I ruined everything. And I want to be with you, even if it means I have to do something I don’t like.”

Magnus looks at him for a moment, and then leans forward and kisses him. They dance slowly, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

For the first month of the semester, Alec got to see Magnus less and less. They texted regularly, but it wasn’t the same. Without Ragnor, his office job wasn’t needed. He finds himself lying in his bed for hours at a time, napping on and off. Max facetimed him every once and a while. Dr. Garroway encouraged him to find a new hobby, or search for another job, but nothing felt worth getting out of bed for. 

“I noticed your birthday is next week,” Dr. Garroway says. “Do you have any plans?” 

“Not really,” Alec says. “Can’t really do much when you’re on parole.” 

“You don’t have to celebrate your birthday with drugs and alcohol,” Dr. Garroway says. “How did you celebrate before?” 

“A family party with my parents’ work friends. But I used to sneak the wine when they weren’t looking to make it more bearable.” 

“You’re scared of getting older,” Dr. Garroway says. “With each passing year, it becomes easier to wonder what could have been, or what could be.” Alec doesn’t respond. “It happens to all of us. Sometimes I wonder who I would be celebrating my birthday with if I wasn’t so invested in school and work during my twenties and thirties.” Alec shrugs. “How did you celebrate your birthday when you were incarcerated?” 

“I didn’t,” Alec answers. “For the most part.” 

“For the most part?” 

“My parents visited every year except the last,” Alec says. “When I turned twenty-two...” 

“Twenty-two has significance.” 

“Not really... I just... This guy, Sebastian talked to one of the other inmates who worked in the kitchen. Traded him something so he could get me a cupcake. It didn’t have frosting or a candle or anything... but it was sweet.”

“You don’t mention him very much,” Dr. Garroway says. “Sebastian  Verlac .” Alec looks down. “Did something happen between you? Were you in a relationship?” 

“No...” Alec answers. “We were just friends. Sometimes we... you know...”

“I don’t know.” 

“We had sex sometimes. But we were just friends.”

Dr. Garroway looks at his clipboard, and then back up at Alec. “I know this is a touchy subject for you, Alec... but I assumed your experience with Underhill was the reason that sex now for you is hard. But... did something else happen? While you were incarcerated?” 

“I don’t-”

“It’s common in federal prisons, you wouldn’t be alone-” 

“It’s nothing.” Alec says. “I... I was stupid. I wanted to get high. Sebastian would get me ketamine. I should have known it would come with consequences. Nothing is ever easy.”

“What happened?” Dr. Garroway asks. Alec doesn’t answer, he just shifts in his chair, sitting sideways in it. “Alec.” 

“A dealer wanted something more for the trade,” Alec says, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. “He wanted to watch us...” he trails off, glancing out the window, past the therapist’s head. Outside, the sun was setting, turning the sky a bright orange. “I wanted it to be over. I knew no one was going to help us. I closed my eyes but it didn’t change anything.” By the time he’s done, he feels a lump in his throat, and his voice is cracking. 

Dr. Garroway sighs, and places his clipboard on the coffee table. “I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he says.

“It’s my fault, I-” 

“Alec, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for a situation like that.”

“But I  _ should,”  _ Alec says. He swings his legs around the chair and stands up. For a moment he paces, biting his nail. “I know that I need to learn to not blame myself for everything, but... I’m not blameless. Everything I’ve done has been a choice. I chose to go to Andrew’s apartment even though I knew it was wrong. I chose to smoke weed, and drink, and do heroin. I chose to keep hanging out with Jace.” 

“Alec, I know that you made all those choices, but this is about. realizing what  things you've done that you should atone for, or not. You've already atoned for your addiction and the choices you made because of it. You did six years in federal prison for it.” 

“It wasn’t enough,” Alec says. “I mean... no matter what I do... I’m never going to be able to forget what I’ve done. Unless I...” 

“You’re thinking of using again.” 

“No,” Alec says. “I don’t know...” 

“Alec.” 

“It’s the easiest way.” 

“Nothing about this is easy. It’s not supposed to be. That’s why it takes time.”

“I don’t have time,” Alec says. “I’m about to turn twenty-five. I want to be a normal person. I want to be there for Max, and my mom, Isabelle and Magnus. I want to get a real career. I don’t want to be some high school drop-out drug addict. I’m sick of myself.” 

“Alec, I understand how you’re feeling, I-” 

“Up my dosage of my medication,” Alec says. “Please. It’s clearly not working. I still feel like shit all the time.” 

“Your prescription is supposed to accompany your sessions with me,” Dr. Garroway says. “I can’t just up the dosage because you want to feel numb. If you feel numb, then you’ll never be able to work through your past.” Alec sighs and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his cigarettes. “You can’t smoke in here.” 

“Then let’s move to the balcony,” Alec says.

“I...” Dr. Garroway says. “I keep those doors locked. We can’t go out there.” Alec looks over at him, slipping the end of the cigarette into his mouth. “It’s for your own safety.” 

Alec rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to jump off in front of you,” he says, his voice getting quieter.

“I worry about you, Alec,” Dr. Garroway says. “I can see parts of your life getting better. Your relationship with your family is improving. You and Magnus seem to be taking to each other nicely. But... it’s when you’re alone that I’m afraid...” 

“I’m fine,” Alec says. “I’ve been through worse.” He takes out his lighter and lights the end of the cigarette, the smoke streaming up to the office ceiling. 

“Alexander-” 

“The balcony.” 

With a groan, Dr. Garroway stands up and walks to the large glass doors. He unlocks them and slides them open so he and Alec can step outside. “You’ll kill your lungs with those.” 

“I don’t care,” Alec says, watching the smoke fade away into the city air. Below them the streets are crowded with people, shuffling into taxis, or walking in and out of stores. 

“It’s the leading cause of lung cancer.” 

“I know,” Alec says. He sighs and leans against the railing, his back to the edge of the balcony. They stand in silence for a few minutes, listening to the bustling crowd below them. “I missed this when I was at Rikers,” Alec continues. “Even though we were always packed together and I never really had privacy, I still missed how busy the streets were in the city.” 

“I can’t imagine missing being knocked into at every intersection,” Dr. Garroway says. “Or cramming into the subway cars during rush hour.” 

“But none of it matters,” Alec says, taking another drag from his cigarette. “In school, if you do something weird, everyone looks at you. They remember. If it’s embarrassing... they never forget. In prison, if you do something someone doesn’t like, suddenly you have a target on your back. Their friends don’t mind it if they bump into you too hard... if a CO doesn’t like you, you can’t count on them to help you if a fight breaks out. But down there, you can do whatever you want, and no one cares. They’ll stare at you. Or laugh at you, or yell at you. But then... the next day it’s over. They forget about you. The faces mix together. You can just... blend in.” 

They stand in silence for a moment. “But isn’t there value in being yourself?” Dr. Garroway asks. Alec doesn’t answer, instead he holds out the smoking cigarette. After looking at it for a moment, Dr. Garroway takes it from his hand, and takes a long drag. 

_ Simon and Alec stare at Jace, their bodies tense. It was a Saturday night, and instead of staying home watching movies like they usually did, they agreed to go to a party with the other boy. They had been to small gatherings before, usually with the other kids at school who didn’t like to venture out of their comfort zone. But even then, it was just playing cards and sharing a pizza. The people around them were older, closer to adulthood than the three boys. “It’s easy,” Jace says, holding out the lit cigarette.  _

_ “I don’t know,” Simon says. “My mom would kill me.”  _

_ “Who cares? She isn’t here,” Jace says, snickering. “Come on, Alec, I know you’re cool.”  _

_ Hesitantly, Alec takes the cigarette and holds it between his fingers. “My parents would-” _

_ “Dude, they aren’t here,” Jace says. “You can’t let your life be dictated by your parents. They aren’t going to be able to control you forever. Might as well start doing what you want now.”  _

_ Just as Simon opens his mouth to object again, Alec puts the end of the cigarette in between his lips and inhales. The smoke fills his lungs, and he coughs, his throat burning. Jace laughs, and takes it back. “Are you okay?” Simon asks, looking over at his friend. Still coughing, Alec nods, looking away.  _

_ “See, he’s fine,” Jace says. He holds it out for Simon again, who still just stares at it. “Fine, if you don’t want to-”  _

_ “No,” Simon interrupts. “I’ll do it.” He takes it from Jace and places it in between his lips. He inhales smoothly, and when he exhales the smoke flows out and disappears into the air above them.  _

_ “You’re a natural,” Jace says, leaning back against the wall of the hallway. Someone steps over them, nearly stepping on Alec’s hand. Simon holds it back out, but Jace shakes his head.  _

_ “Where did you even get these anyway?” Simon asks, taking another drag before handing it to Alec again.  _

_ “My dad has a bunch of packs in his dresser,” Jace says. “He doesn’t notice if I take one. Or doesn’t care, anyway.”  _

_ “What about your mom?” Alec asks.  _

_ Jace shakes his head and pulls his knees in toward his chest. “She died when I was five,” he says.  _

_ “Oh...” Alec trails. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” _

_ “It’s fine,” Jace says. “It’s not like I walk around advertising it.”  _

_ They sit in silence for a minute at the party around them continues on. “My dad died when I was younger too,” Simon says. _

_ “Huh,” Jace crosses his arm. “I’ve never met someone else who only had one parent. It seems like at school everyone is just so... lucky. Both of their parents are rich. They get to go to Europe in the summer and it doesn’t matter what their grades are because they’ll buy their way into an Ivy League.” He glances over at Alec, who frowns. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was one of those people.  _

_ As the night continues, the boys find themselves sitting a circle with another group of people, a bottle spinning in the middle of them. Alec twiddled his thumbs nervously. He had never kissed anyone before, and everyone around him was older. The bottle lands on a girl, who smiles. She leans forward, kissing another girl passionately. Alec gulps as their tongues slide out. Next to him, Jace snickers and slips his hand onto Alec’s knee. Alec’s body tenses, and his eyes dart to the other boy’s hand on his knee. He focuses on the sharp outline of Jace’s knuckles, tinted by a dark purple bruise. His fingers were long, wrapping around the front of his knee. There was dirt under his fingernails, jagged from his bad habit of biting them in class. _

_ “Dude,” Alec hears, and he looks up to see everyone staring at him. “Earth to Alec,” Jace says, pulling his hand away. “It’s your turn,” he snickers.  _

_ A girl sits across from him, smirking at the bottle pointed at Alec. She was older than him by a few years. Her skin shined in the dim light, shimmering with body glitter. As she crawled forward, Alec’s eyes wandered to her cleavage, low hanging in her shirt. “I don’t...” Alec starts, trailing off.  _

_ “It’s okay,” the girl says, her voice quiet. Around them, a couple people laugh, including Jace. Simon watches with wide eyes as the girl cups Alec’s face with her hand, her skin soft. Slowly, she leans forward, pressing her lips to his gently. He sits still, holding up his body with his hands on the wood floor. After a moment, her hand reaches around to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his short hair. Hesitantly, Alec kisses her back, despite how foreign it felt. He glances over at Jace from the corner of his eye, who’s staring at him, his expression plain. As the kiss comes to an end, their eyes stay on each other.  _

Alec runs his fingers through his hair in the mirror, trying to flatten the few strands that were still sticking up despite the gel he used. Against his wishes, his mother had insisted that they host a small gathering for his birthday. As she finished cooking a cake from scratch, he changed into some of the clothes that Isabelle had bought him many months before. They still fit, although the waist was snugger than it was before. As he leaves the bathroom, he’s overwhelmed with the smell of smoke in the kitchen. 

“Fuck,” he hears his mother hiss. As he turns the corner, he sees her toss the pan on top of the stove, fanning the smoke with an oven mitt. “Damn it.” Alec rushes forward, grabbing a towel from the counter and fanning the smoke so it doesn’t set off the alarm. “Honey, I-” 

“What’s going on?” Robert asks from the hallway, walking from the master bedroom. He was still in the process of moving out, and some of his clothes were still in the drawers. “Maryse, I told you we should have just gone out.” 

“Well, I wanted to dine in,” Maryse snaps back. “Thank you, Honey,” she mentions to Alec, squeezing his shoulder.

“You know that cooking has never been your strong suit.” 

“Well Alec doesn’t like going out,” Maryse says. “Which is why we aren’t going anywhere.” 

“Alec also doesn’t like parties at all,” Robert responds. He walks forward, glancing at the black pan. Sighing, he gently grasps Maryse’s hand. “Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?” 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Maryse says, pulling her hand away. She wipes sweat off her brow and looks at the clock above the oven. “We still have time. Maybe Isabelle will have time to pick up a cheesecake from the bakery down the street.” 

“They’re nearly closed,” Robert says. 

“It’s fine, Mom,” Alec interjects. “I don’t really like cake anyway.” 

“Alec, this is your first birthday since...” she sighs. “Since you’ve been out. I just want it to be perfect.” Alec shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I’m going to call Isabelle. Could you clean this up before anyone gets here?” 

“Sure,” Alec answers, and watches as his mother disappears down the hallway.

Robert steps forward and grabs an oven mitt, picking up the hot pan. “I don’t know why she even tried,” he mutters. “This is just another mess.” He opens the trash can with his foot, and shakes the pan. Chunks of cake start falling out, landing in the bin. “Can you hand me a spatula?” Alec reaches over and grabs a spatula. He hands it to his father, who continues dumping the cake into the can. After it’s mostly hidden in the bin, he walks over and places the pan into the sink, running the water over it. Alec watches as the water steams. “So...” his father starts. “Now you can rent a car without a surcharge. How does that feel?” 

“I mean... I can’t drive, so...” Alec trails off. As the two men stand in silence, he turns around and starts cleaning the counter, wiping up the residual flour and batter his mother left out. 

“Right, we never did get around to that,” Robert says. “I suppose you don’t really need it. Unless you’re planning on leaving the city.” Alec shrugs. “Have you?” 

“Have I what?” 

“Ever thought about leaving New York?” Robert asks. “I wouldn’t blame you. I know this place can remind us of certain... memories.” 

“I can’t leave the state for at least another year,” Alec says. “Because of my parole.”

“I mean  _ after,  _ Alexander,” Robert says. He sighs, and turns the water off. “Camille’s case is falling apart beneath her,” he continues. “I can’t get a job anywhere, at least not in New York where everyone knows who I am. I’m considering moving to the family home in Florida.” Alec vaguely remembered that house from his early childhood, where his grandparents lived. 

“Oh...” Alec responds. “Okay.” 

“So... if you ever want to get away... after your parole... you’re more than welcome to come stay with me,” Robert says. Alec shrugs, feeling the awkwardness start to build between them. Before it wasn’t smooth, but ever since Camille and Robert got caught, Alec felt even more out of place with his father. “You don’t want to.” 

“No, it’s not that, I just... I’ve barely left New York, and-” 

“You were always closer with your mother,” Robert says. “Since you were a child. I don’t blame you for it, I just-” he’s interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Without continuing, Robert walks around the counter to answer it.

Isabelle walks in, dressed more formally than Alec had expected. She hugs her father, and then walks over to hug Alec. “Happy birthday, big brother,” she says, squeezing him tightly. “It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to really celebrate!” 

“Thanks,” Alec answers. He looks over her shoulder at two other figures walking in, shaking hands with Robert. Clary smiles at him, waving, while Simon stands next to her, his face plain. Alec’s mind drifted back to his eighteenth birthday party. While the adults were mingling, Alec had snuck into his room with Jace and Simon to share a joint out the window.

“Oh, Clarissa and... Simon,” Maryse says as she walks back into the room. “It’s been too long. How are Elaine and Rebecca?” 

“Fine, I guess,” Simon answers. Maryse eyes him up and down, her gaze piercing. “Still the same.” 

“Of course,” Maryse says. “Did you get my message, Isabelle?” 

“Yes,” Izzy answers. “Don’t worry, I took care of it. There will be cake.” She smiles, squeezing Alec’s hand. 

Everyone helps as Maryse finishes placing food on the table, a takeout order from one of the nicer restaurants close to the apartment. The smell filled the room, of freshly made garlic bread and overly creamy mushroom sauce. Just as they’re about to sit down, the doorbell rings again. Alec walks over to answer it, looking back at Isabelle’s wide smile. 

“Magnus?” Alec says as he opens the door, revealing the other man holding a packaged cake. He was dressed in what he usually wore to teach, a long trench coat and button-up shirt. 

“Surprise,” Magnus says, winking. 

“But... you said you had a meeting tonight,” Alec says. “We were going to make plans for the weekend.” 

“There was a meeting tonight,” Magnus says. “But since I  _ am  _ the director of the department, I rescheduled it with encouragement from your sister.” 

“Isabelle?” 

“I got his number from your phone when you were in the bathroom last week,” Isabelle says from the table. “You barely talk about him, and I wanted to meet him so badly, so I took matters into my own hands.” 

“Isabelle,” Maryse says, raising an eyebrow.

“And he brought cake,” Isabelle says, walking forward and taking it from Magnus’ hands as he walks in.

Alec looks between Magnus and his family, feeling himself starting to panic. He had kept them separate in his life for a reason, fearing that by meeting them Magnus will learn too much and not want to be with him anymore. Maryse sets up a place for Magnus at the table, and the group start eating. It’s quiet at first, despite some small talk between Robert and Isabelle about her job. Alec pushes his food around his plate, watching as the meatball slides around. 

“So, I hear you teach at NYU,” Robert says, looking at Magnus from across the table. “It’s a prestigious school.”

“Yes,” Magnus answers. “In the history department, although I do dabble in education as well.” 

“When he was younger Alec dreamt of going to Columbia,” Robert says. 

“It was Brown,” Maryse chimes in. “He wanted to go to Brown.” 

“No, it was Columbia. Although, I did want it to be Harvard.” 

“Harvard is great, but Alec liked Providence.”

“Well, I don’t see why anyone would want to move to Providence.” 

“I got my PhD at Brown, actually,” Magnus interjects. Both Maryse and Robert look at him. Robert clenches his jaw and takes a bite of his food, while Maryse hides her smile with her fork. “Providence is lovely in the fall. The trees turn this beautiful mix of red and orange. But it’s more of an amber... just the right shade. Although, New York has been the most fun to live in.” 

The conversation shifts to the weather in New York, and Alec’s eyes wander to Simon. His food went barely touched, still piled on the plate. Alec noticed how his shirt was too big for him. Since he had first run into him at the gym months before, his body had become smaller. By the twitch in his hand, Alec could tell that he was waiting for the right time to escape the table. 

“It’s so hard to believe that my son is twenty-five,” Maryse says as everyone is finishing with their plates. “It seems like just yesterday you were in diapers, really.” Alec blushes, meeting eyes with his mother. “Of course, we haven’t gotten to truly celebrate your birthday for years. I thought about buying you six presents to make up for lost time, but you are so hard to shop for.” She stands up and walks to the counter, opening a drawer. She pulls out a small box, neatly wrapped. 

“Oh, uh... thanks...” Alec says, standing up to take the present. Isabelle and Clary start gathering the dishes, and everyone moves to the living room. 

“Open it,” Maryse says, sitting next to her son on the couch. Magnus sits next to him on the other side, his hand resting on Alec’s knee. 

Hesitantly, Alec opens the gift, tearing open the wrapping paper. He reads the words on the small box, and rolls his eyes. “No,” he groans. “I’m not using these. No way.” 

“It’s about time you started,” Maryse insists. “I did already.” 

“Mom-” 

“It’s already done.” 

“What is it?” Isabelle asks as her and Clary walk in. 

Maryse laughs, hugging her son again. “Nicotine patches.” 

The rest of the night moves slowly, as Alec opens a couple other gifts. A couple books from Isabelle, new to the science fiction section of the book store. Clary had brought some of her used painting supplies that she didn’t need so Alec could create something without needing to go to the art therapy sessions. A couple hundred dollars in spending money from his father. After everyone sings happy birthday and Alec blows out the candles from the cake Magnus brought, the night slows to a lull. As Robert and Maryse intently discussed his job with Magnus, Alec notices Simon slip away down the hallway. He makes sure no one is playing attention to him, and follows him to his bedroom. 

“You took everything down,” Simon says. “I always liked your  _ Night of the Living Dead  _ poster.” 

“Jace gave it to me,” Alec responds, sitting on the bed next to his friend.

“I still have one of his jackets at my house,” Simon says. “He left it there and I never got a chance to give it back.” 

“The denim jacket with the hand painted anarchy symbol, right?” 

“That’s the one. He left it the night we...” 

“I remember. He complained about how cold he was.”

“Clary painted it for him. But it was your idea, right?”

“I knew he would like it.”

“You always knew each other so well,” Simon says, standing up. He wanders to the desk, looking at the plain wood. He sighs, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small package of gummies.”

“Simon-”

“Chill, it’s just an edible,” Simon says. “Happy birthday.” He places the rest of the bag into the top drawer of Alec’s desk after placing one in his mouth. Alec watches as Simon walks back around to the bed, sitting on the other side. “Your mother hates me.” 

“No she doesn’t.” 

“Yes, she does,” Simon says. “I don’t blame her. I... I was a bad boyfriend to Isabelle.” 

“She never talks about it.” 

“Probably because she doesn’t want to think about it.” He sighs, and looks down at the floor, his eyes resting on Alec’s converse. “Are those...” he trails off, looking closer at them. His eyes widen. “Your shoes? You still have those?” 

“I wore them to Rikers,” Alec says. “They were in my box when I got out.” 

“But...” Simon reaches down and picks one of the shoes up, looking at it closer. “Alec... how can you just... wear these?” His eyes rest on the faded stain in the fabric, just above the insole. “Is that?”

“Yes.” 

Simon tosses the shoe back onto the floor, and stands up. “That’s fucked up,” he says. “Why don’t you just buy a new pair?” 

“I don’t know... I...” Alec hangs his head down. “I need a reminder, I guess. To make sure I never stop feeling guilty.” Simon doesn’t answer, instead walking out of the room, leaving Alec alone for a few minutes. 

Eventually, someone knocks on the door frame, and he looks up, seeing Magnus. “So, this is your childhood room.” Magnus says. He reaches a hand out to Alec, who takes it and stands up. “It’s smaller than I thought it would be, given the size of the rest of the apartment.” Alec shrugs, and Magnus wraps his arms around his waist, kissing the side of his neck. “Everyone’s leaving, including me. Normally the host says goodbye.” 

“I’m a bad host,” Alec says.

“You didn’t want to have a party in the first place, did you? From how Isabelle sounded on the phone I suspected so...” 

“I can’t believe she called you.” 

“I was surprised,” Magnus says. “I should’ve mentioned it to you, but I must admit I was eager to meet your family.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” Alec says. “My father is just... oblivious, and my mother...” 

“They are both very interesting to talk to,” Magnus says. “I have something for you myself.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a small polaroid picture. “From the wedding.” It’s a picture of Magnus and Alec dancing, a candid. Magnus is laughing in the picture, and Alec’s face is red from the embarrassment of the dancing. It’s slightly blurry, but Alec can make out their faces clear enough. 

“Thank you,” Alec says, smiling. It was small, but just enough, something Magnus always was somehow able to understand about him. As he turns it over, he sees Magnus’ handwriting in dark ink, slopping and slanted.  _ Alexander, happy birthday. I love you. M.  _ He reads the words a couple times over, and then looks at the other man, his gaze hooded. “I...” he takes a deep breath, feeling his cheeks heating up. “I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! hopefully my next chapter will be quicker! did you know all the chapter titles are names of songs???? bc they are!


	11. Time Will Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for themes of suicidal thoughts and drug use

Alec watched on the stage as the large orchestra blasted through their last piece, playing so loud the whole room felt like it echoed the bright sound of the trumpets. The conductor looked like she was dancing, her arms swinging in a large motion. Next to him, Magnus watched intently, his eyes glued to the stage. Throughout the symphony, Alec had been in and out of reality, his mind drifting to other places when the music got quieter. As the final note is played, Magnus squeezes Alec’s hand, leaning into his shoulder. Everyone around them stands up to applaud. The two men join everyone else, clapping for the next minute as the conductor and the rest of the orchestra bow. 

The crowd disperses slowly, shuffling in a line down the aisle of the auditorium. “Thank you for coming with me,” Magnus says. “I know it’s not exactly your... thing... but  Ragnor had to cancel last minute, and-” 

“I was glad you asked,” Alec interrupts, and Magnus kisses his cheek. Since his birthday party a month prior, they had grown more affectionate. He would stay even later at Magnus’s apartment. Sometimes his mother joined them for dinner. Alec didn’t like how much they got along, but he chose to not say anything about it.

As they finally exited the building, the crisp Autumn air hit them, and both men struggled to put on their coats quickly. While he had gotten out his suit for the occasion, Alec had opted for the familiarity of his worn-out converse and denim jacket. “I must say, I think that his _Pathetique_ is my favorite work of Tchaikovsky,” Magnus says. “It’s just so beautiful... and it has a way to make you feel so much emotion.” 

“Yeah,” Alec says as they walk down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance. “I wouldn’t really know.”

Magnus stops walking for a moment, looking over at Alec. Their eyes meet for a moment, before he continues walking again. “Why don’t we ever do anything that you want to do?” Magnus asks.

“We do,” Alec says. “I want to go places with you.” 

“Yes, but... it’s always things that I want to do. You never choose.” 

“The last time I decided what I wanted to do I got your arm broken, so...” Alec trails off, and Magnus scoffs. 

“That was an accident,” Magnus says. “And I’ve been out of the cast for months. For our next evening  out, we should go somewhere that you want to go, Alexander.” 

Alec shrugs, watching as a couple leaves blow past them. “There isn’t anything that I want to do anyway,” Alec says. “I don’t exactly have hobbies, Magnus. Or many friends.” His mind drifts to Simon, but Alec knew the longer they hung out, the higher risk he was to relapsing. 

“Surely there’s something,” Magnus says. “I know we planned to stay home and watch movies, but... on Halloween, why don’t you choose something that you want to do. It can be anything.” 

“I don’t want to do anything.”

“Alexander.” 

“Fine,” Alec says as they reach the top of the stairs down to the subway. “I’ll try to think of something, I guess.” Magnus’s hand grazes his hip, around to his lower back. “But don’t have any high expectations.” 

“This was stupid,” Alec says as Isabelle touches up the face  paint she did for him. “I regret suggesting this already.” 

“It’s not stupid, Alec, it’s going to be fun,” Isabelle says, setting the paint with her powder. “I’m sure Magnus will love it.” 

“I invited a grown man to a haunted house,” Alec says. Isabelle puts down her brush and turns the chair to the bathroom mirror. In his reflection, Alec’s face is painted black and white, outline his facial features to make him look like a skeleton. It matched a hoodie he had found from high school that still fit, a glow in the dark skeleton design.

“You’re a grown man,” Isabelle says. 

“Well it doesn’t feel like it,” Alec responds. “Thanks,” he says as he walks out of the bathroom.

Maryse meets him in the hallway, smiling. “You look just like you did when you were sixteen,” she says, ruffling his hair. “I remember that night. You and your friends scared Max so much he didn’t even want to go trick or treating.” Alec laughs under his breath. “It’s not funny, Alexander.” 

“It’s not my fault he couldn’t handle a little fake blood,” Alec says, walking down the hallway. As he approaches the living room, his eyes meet Simon’s. Maia stood on the side, scrolling through her phone. Her costume was simple, just a black dress and a mask from  _ the Purge.  _ It made Alec comfortable knowing he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to put in much effort.

“That was the year Jace and I went as Jack and Wendy Torrance,” Clary says, smiling. She was dressed in a loose-fitting fairy costume, adorned with glitter in every crevice. Alec could spot some on the couch that his mother would complain about later. At the mention of her ex-boyfriend, her eyes were distant, cloudy. It reminded Alec of his own, late night in his room, and he realized that they probably have more in common than he realized.

Simon had put in more effort than Alec thought he would, painting his face with clown makeup and wearing an orange suit. The Joker, Alec presumed. He could tell that Simon wasn’t sober from how relaxed he was. These days it always seemed like his hands were shaking and his eyes were wide. As Isabelle walked out in her promiscuous demon costume, Simon bit his lip and looked away. “Are we ready to go?” Isabelle asks, ignoring the man. 

“Oh, let me take a picture,” Maryse says, getting out her phone. 

“Mom, we’re too old for that,” Isabelle complains. Alec slips back down the hallway, walking into his room. He closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath. For a minute, he looks between his desk and the door. Magnus had insisted that Alec’s friends go with them, but he was scared that something bad was going to happen. That Isabelle or Simon would share too much. Just as the doorbell rings, Alec opens his drawer and pulls out one of the edibles Simon had given him for his birthday, and swallows it, barely thinking. 

Down the hallway, he hears talking, and takes a deep breath. He meets everyone else just as Maryse starts taking pictures, and she ushers him to the middle of the group before he can even greet Magnus. Once she’s done, the group all walk out the door, and Alec takes Magnus’s hand. “It’s a nice night for a walk... Rose?” 

Magnus laughs. “Close. Blanche,” he says, smiling. He was wearing makeup that contoured wrinkles into his face, with a short wig and a floral dressed, cinched at his waist. “Halloween is my favorite holiday. But usually I go to one of Catarina’s parties. This is so much more... laid back. Being in a room with a bunch of artists can be intimidating.” 

“This is my first  Halloween in six years,” Alec says. “And I’m still wearing a costume I bought when I was sixteen.” Magnus squeezes his hand. 

“It looks good on you,” Magnus says. “In really highlights your cheekbones. Who knew they were so high,” his hand cups Alec’s cheek gently, to not smear his makeup. “It’s like I’m dating a model.” 

“Stop,” Alec mutters, feeling eyes on them. He knew there would be tension in the group. She never talked about it, but Alec knew that Isabelle and Simon still cared for each other. He also knew that no matter how hard she tried, Clary still wasn’t over Jace, and that Alec reminded her of him too much. 

As they approached the haunted house, they mostly kept up small talk about their costumes and past Halloweens. “Remember sophomore year,” Clary says as the line moves slowly. “It was before Jace and I were ever super serious, but somehow we managed to all end up going to the same party. I was dressed like Rapunzel, and walks in these three boys just covered in fake blood. I mean, splattered everywhere. It got on the carpet. And after a moment, I realized it was Simon and his friends. And I could barely recognize you... you had this sort-of...” 

“Jewfro,” Simon says. 

“A mop on your head, and growing up you always kept your hair short. I couldn’t believe it was you. At that point we hadn’t talked in forever. The Simon I knew was an introverted geek.” She laughs, reaching over and resting her hand on his shoulder.

“That’s me,” Simon says, getting out his  juul pod. “The quiet one. Nerdy. Too into video games.” He sighs, putting the small pod in his mouth, and then blowing out the vapor. It dissolves into the cold air, surrounding the group. 

“Simon, you can’t even turn around?” Isabelle asks, looking away from him, ahead at the door. 

“It’s watermelon flavored,” Simon says, smirking. “I know how much you like watermelon. It’s the scent of the air freshener you keep in your bathroom, so instead of it smelling like shit, it smells like you shit at a picnic.” 

Before Isabelle can respond, Alec bursts out laughing, looking at the group with hooded eyes. He had forgotten about the edible once they left, but it was starting to hit him. He felt looser, his shoulders dropping. “That was disgusting,” Isabelle says, still looking at her brother with a puzzled expression on her face. 

“It’s just a joke,” Simon says, inhaling from the pod again, instead blowing it out away from the group. His clown makeup was smearing. They all stand in silence for a moment, before he speaks again. “I remember that night, too,” he continues. “That girl yelled at us the next time we saw her at school because the fake blood stained the carpet and her parents were pissed.” 

“Lydia Branwell,” Clary says as they reach the front of the line. The music was louder, making it harder to hear her.

“Lydia!” Simon exclaims as Isabelle gives the employee the money for their turn. “I remember Lydia! Alec’s prom date. The blonde with the big boobs who got better grades than all of us. Her parents were both corporate lawyers!” The group all walk into the haunted house, blinded by the flashing red lights. Immediately, two girls with realistic looking prosthetics run at them screaming.

“Oh, shit,” Maia exclaims from behind everyone, pushing them forward. 

Just as a laughing clown swings a pickaxe at them, Simon yells over everyone’s screaming. “Alec lost his virginity to her!” He laughs, loud, and the actor gives them a weird look. 

“Not exactly,” Alec shouts as they reach the end of the hall. He could feel the conversation veering into a direction he didn’t like, but between the spiderwebs tangling in his hair and the weed making his mind hazy, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. 

“Simon, will you shut up?” Isabelle yells as they turn a corner. She screams as someone in scaley makeup climbs on the ceiling above them, croaking. The lights go pitch black, and no one can see anything.

“It’s the truth!” Simon exclaims. “We teased him about it for weeks!”

“I lied!” Alec yells as they reach an elevator. The lights sudden flash on, bright enough that he needs to cover his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he sees everyone in the group, their reflections looking back at them. His face paint was already smeared, the white and black blending into a grey. He could see that Isabelle’s hair was tangled in her devil horns, and her face was turning a dark red that matched her outfit.

“You lied?” Simon asks, his voice much quieter. He makes eye contact with Alec through the mirrors on the wall of the elevator.

“You know why,” Alec says, his voice almost a whisper. His mind flashes back to Jace, smiling and dancing with Clary on the dancefloor of prom, sweating through his suit. His teeth were rotting and his eyes were bloodshot, but Alec had ignored it. All he had wanted to do that night was walk up to the other boy and kiss him as hard as he could.

Simon opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted when the doors open, revealing someone screaming with a chainsaw. Everyone disperses, going in different directions through the dark room. Alec finds himself rushing through the small maze with Clary, who despite being in a haunted house, looked stern and focused. They meet up again at the end of the floor, going into another elevator, this time pitch black. Alec could feel a hand creep up his side, cupping his hip. Magnus pulling him out of his inner thoughts. 

“I was jealous of you,” Simon shouts over the moaning of the wires above them. “I was so jealous of you. And I was jealous of Jace. I still am.”

“Shut up,” Clary says from the front of the group. The doors open to a group of people contorting their bodies unnaturally, screaming and growling, their prosthetic makeup eerily realistic.

“Clar-”

“I said shut up!” She screams, even louder than the actors. “Shut up, Simon! Shut the fuck up!” She bolts through the actors, pushing them aside. The group follows close behind her, barreling through the rest of the floor to the end of the attraction. As they reach the exit, she pushes open the door, smacking two people who were standing outside. They complain, but she ignores them, walking out onto the sidewalk. Everyone is quiet as they follow her until she slows down, leaning against a brick wall, panting.

“That was... interesting,” Maia says quietly to Magnus, who nods.

“What, Clary?” Simon asks, his voice still too loud, earning a few looks from people walking by. The street was crowded with people in costume, laughing and drinking at the bar next to them. She rolls her eyes and ventures into the narrow alley, the group following her. “Clary, it’s Halloween. We’re here to have fun with Alec, and-”

“I know,” she says, her voice echoing in between the walls. “That’s what I want to do. But you always have to make everything about you, don’t you?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’re mad at everyone,” Clary says. “I can see it. We can all see it.” 

“ No, I’m not, I-” 

“You are. You get angry when your  _ high,  _ Simon,” Clary says. “And not just because you smoked weed. It’s something else. You’re using again. We can all tell.” 

Simon scoffs, backing up into the wall behind him. He kicks an empty can from between his feet. “Whatever,” he says, his voice nearly a whisper. “I’m not the only one. Alec’s high too.” Alec blushes, feeling everyone’s eyes fall to him. He sees Isabelle narrow her eyebrows and take a step back. “And you know, at that party sophomore year, afterword we went to another party, and Jace fucked another girl. He cheated on you all the time, Clary. And I never told you because I wanted to be a good friend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” Clary asks. “Why would you... in front of...” her eyes drift to Magnus, who is  fiddling with the buttons on his dress.

“It’s the truth,” Simon says. “Look at his eyes, their red. His muscles are relaxed, usually his posture is crooked because he’s so tense.”

“Alec,” Isabelle whispers from next to her brother. “Is that true?” Alec looks between her and Magnus, biting his lip. He turns around, walking away from the rest of the group, onto the sidewalk. 

“You probably gave it to him,” Clary says, pointing her finger at Simon. 

“Yeah,” Simon says. “Because no one else will let him have fun.” 

“It’s not fun, Simon,” Clary says. “In case you don’t remember, let me remind you. The last time you relapse, you almost died! I found you in the bathroom foaming at the mouth. And next time, who knows who you’ll have left to watch out for you when it happens again.” 

“Well I wish you had just let me die!” Simon yells, pushing past her, out the other end of the alley.

Alec stands by a trash can, counting his breathing. Magnus and Isabelle approach him, and he looks away. “I’m sorry,” Alec says. “I shouldn’t have... it was just an edible. And it’s not that strong anyway, so...” 

“You lied,” Isabelle says. 

“Izzy, it’s not that simple.” 

“I know, but... Alec, if you think you’re going to relapse, then we should talk to Mom, and get you in rehab, and-”

“I don’t need to go to fucking rehab, Isabelle,” Alec snaps. “You can’t just lock me up when you don’t want to deal with me. Not again, okay?”

“Alec, I’m not the one who locked you up in the first place,” Isabelle responds. “You brought that on yourself when you got arrested. I just think we need to stay on top of this, okay?” 

“There’s nothing to stay on top of,” Alec says. “It was one edible, okay? I’m not relapsing. I wanted to relax, because I knew something like this was going to happen. I just... want things to go back to the way they were.”

“Back to the way they were? When you would sneak out with Simon and Jace, and get high all the time. Or when you would sneak out with Andrew Underhill? Or back to the Alec I know. My sweet, quiet older brother who could always see through our parents’ bullshit? Because there’s so many sides to you that sometimes I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Alec retorts, raising his voice. 

“Hey,” Magnus interjects, his voice soft. His hand squeezes Alec’s upper arm. “Maybe we should go before you say something you’ll regret.”

“I should too,” Isabelle says. Clary stands behind her, her mascara running down her cheek. She hugs Alec goodbye, although he doesn’t return it, before disappearing down the sidewalk into the crowd with Clary. 

“I’m sorry, Magnus,” Alec says. They peer into the alley, looking for Simon and Maia, who stand talking, huddled close. “This was supposed to be a fun night out so you could get to know my friends, and...” 

“I did get to know them, in a way,” Magnus says, chuckling. Alec smiles, and Magnus leans forward, kissing him. For a moment they get lost in each other, and Alec wraps his hands around the other man’s shoulders. When he pulls away, Magnus has black face paint staining his lips. After a few minutes, they regroup with Maia and Simon, and descend down the sidewalk again.

The conversation becomes light again as Maia talks about some of the weirdest tattoos she has had to do. It’s enough to distract them from what happened. Suddenly, Simon smiles, and jogs forward. At first, Alec is confused, until he realizes what he’s looking at. It’s one of the skateparks they used to frequent as teenagers. “Simon, we don’t have anything to skate.” 

“I know, but if we offer to do something crazy enough, someone will let us use theirs.” 

“I doubt it,” Alec says. It was fairly busy, with mostly younger people in costume skating around, practicing tricks. “Besides, I haven’t skated in years.” 

“Yeah, but you’re crazy, so I know you will if we get someone to lend us their board,” Simon says.

“Simon...”

“Alec, I’ve seen you jump down a fifteen-step flight of stairs before to land a trick. Come on... for old times' sake.” With a sigh, Alec starts walking in, and Simon cheers. After asking around for a few minutes and mostly getting weird looks, Simon approaches a group of teenagers. 

“No way man,” one of the kids says. “How do we know you won’t just run away with it?” 

“Because we wouldn’t do that,” Simon says. “Look, my friend here used to be the best skater I knew, until we got in some trouble. He hasn’t touched a board in years. Just let him drop in?” 

“Why do I have to do it?” Alec asks. 

“Because you were always a better skater than me,” Simon says. “And you have no fear.” 

“Well, I do,” Magnus says. “The last time you did anything like this, I broke my arm.” 

Alec looks between Magnus, and the group of teenagers. Then, he looks behind him, at the bowl. Thinking for a moment, he looks back. “What if I dropped in backwards?”

“No way,” one of the teenagers says.

“Alexander,” 

“I could do it,” Alec says. “I just need to send it.” 

“And break your neck,” Maia says, crossing her arms.

“Just one try,” Alec says. The kid looks at him, his eyebrows raised. Hesitantly, he hands Alec his board, and Alec tosses it to the ground. He places one foot on it, and then gives a test push. Despite how long it had been, he still felt relatively stable on it. He places his back foot on the tail, and pushes down, swinging the board under him to do a kick turn. It felt wobbly.

“Alexander, no,” Magnus protests. “Don’t be foolish.” 

“Alec, if you don’t want to,” Simon starts as Alec approaches the edge of the bowl. “Maybe we can come back another day.” 

“No, you wanted to see something crazy,” Alec says. “It’s my first Halloween since I was eighteen. I want it to be memorable.” 

“I think that fight in the haunted house was pretty memorable,” Maia mutters.

Alec slides the board forward until the back wheels are on the edge of the bowl. As he looks down at the drop, it becomes daunting. He takes a deep breath and turns around, carefully placing both feet on the tail of the board. “Oh, shit,” one of the kids says, getting out his phone. At the sight of him standing backward against the edge. “No way.”

“Alexander, be careful.” 

“Alec, you don’t have to-” Simon starts, but Alec’s already leaning his weight backward. He feels his body falling, but focuses and keeps his feet on the board. As it descends down the wall, he manages to stay on, cruising through the bottom of the bowl. The small crowd cheers. As he approaches the other end of the bowl, the board flies up, and Alec loses balance. It slides out from under him and lands on his butt. For a moment, he lies down on the cement, closing his eyes and letting the adrenaline take over. When he opens them, his gaze meets Magnus’s eyes, wide in shock. After catching his breath, Alec retrieves the skateboard and runs up, catching the ledge of the bowl with his fingers to pull himself up. 

“That was insane!” the teenager says as Alec hands him back the board. 

“Holy shit,” Simon says. “You’re crazy.” 

“Alexander,” Magnus snaps, grabbing the other man’s hand. “I thought you were going to snap your neck.”

“I didn’t know you were that daring,” Maia says, her eyes still wide. After talking with the teenagers for a minute, the group leaves, heading toward the subway station. Simon and Maia catch the same train, leaving Simon and Alec to wait a couple minutes longer. As it approaches, Magnus’s wig flies off, and Alec catches it, just barely. Once they board the train, they sit across from each other. Playfully, Magnus kicks Alec’s shoes. Alec kicks back, rubbing circles on Magnus’s ankle with the rubber of his converse. Distracted, when the train comes to a hard stop, his body leans too far forward, bumping into the person next to him. He gets a dirty look, and when he looks back, Magnus is just laughing. 

After watching a couple horror movies, the two men find themselves bleary-eyed, sitting a foot apart on the couch. Magnus had long since ditched his dress for an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts, but Alec was still in costume. “I should go,” Alec says, wiping face paint from his eyes.

“It’s nearly two a.m.” Magnus says, turning off the T.V. as the credits rolled. “And the Babadook might get you on your way home.”

Alec rolls his eyes and stands up. “That movie wasn’t even that scary.” 

“I saw you flinch at the closet scene.” 

“Because it was a jump scare,” Alec says. He doesn’t move from where he stands. “I think I’m going to break out tomorrow morning from leaving this on,” he gestures to the smeared paint. 

“You should shower,” Magnus says. “I think I have something that will fit you.” 

“That’s asking a lot, I-”

“I want you to stay the night, Alec,” Magnus says.

Without protesting, Alec shrugs. Magnus follows him to the bathroom, setting him up with a towel and a change of clothes. He turns on the water and makes sure it’s hot before leaving the room. Alec closes the door gently, and then locks it. He sighs and looks at himself in the mirror. His whole body felt heavy, and his thoughts wandered back to the fight that happened earlier in the night. Isabelle knew that he had taken an edible, and as much as he didn’t want it to be a big deal, he knew she would want to talk about it again. She probably would even tell his mother.

In the shower, he lets the warm water wash away the paint, watching as it swirled down the drain at his feet. He closed his eyes for a long time, letting the water wash down his back. His muscles were already sore from the haunted house, and from falling off the skateboard so hard. He thinks of Magnus, probably already in his bed with a book. He wore his glasses low on his nose, almost falling off. There was always a stack of papers he was grading on the nightstand. Usually, when Alec slept over, he woke up with his back pressed against the other man’s. He would ignore the tight feeling in his lower stomach, and shuffle out of the apartment just as Magnus was waking up.

Once he’s out of the shower, Alec quickly gets dressed and heads to Magnus’s room, his hair still wet. Just as he thought, Magnus was sitting up against his pillows, rereading a book he had already read through four or five times. Without saying anything, Alec gets into the bed next to him, lying down flat on his back. He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes falling on a water stain. Magnus turns off the lamp, and the room goes completely black. He curls up in the blankets on the other side, distanced from Alec. For a while, Alec just lies still, listening to the other man’s breathing. It’s slow, barely audible. He closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep, but every time he closes them all he sees is Underhill’s sultry smile across from him on the bed, or Sebastian’s hooded eyes, darting back and forth making sure no one could see them.

He turns his body more than once, trying to get comfortable in the bed, with no luck. His gaze wanders over to Magnus, completely still on the other side of the mattress. He wasn’t asleep yet. Usually, he would move enough that he would kick Alec in his sleep. Alec sighs, pressing his face into the pillow. Slowly, he reaches his hand over, resting it on Magnus’s shoulder. The other man turns, looking over. “Alec? Are you okay?” Alec pushes his body over and kisses him before he can continue. Magnus moans in surprise, readjusting his body so he’s fully facing the other man. After a minute, Magnus pushes himself up, swinging his leg around Alec so he was holding himself over him. His hand grazes Alec’s hip, and then slides under his shirt, cupping the side of his ribcage.

“Magnus,” Alec pants, pulling away. He turns his head, and Magnus kisses down his jaw to his neck. “I...”

“Do you want to stop?” Magnus asks. At this point, he was used to Alec stopping before any clothing got taken off, leaving them both to silently stew in their own thoughts from opposite sides of the bed. 

“I don’t know, I...” Alec trails off as he feels Magnus’s mouth travel down to his collar bone, gently sucking on the skin. 

“That’s not a concrete answer,” Magnus says. “I need a yes or no, Alexander...” 

“I’m scared,” Alec blurts out, and Magnus pulls away, his hand still under the other man’s shirt. “I know it’s stupid... I’m twenty-five... and I...”

“It’s not stupid, Alec,” Magnus says, his voice quiet. His thumb rubs small circles on Alec’s side. “What’s wrong?” 

Magnus had never asked that before. Usually, when Alec said to stop, he didn’t say anything. Alec bites his lip, and sighs, letting his body fall back onto the mattress. “I... I don’t want to lose you... I guess...” 

“Lose me?” Magnus asks, pulling his hand out from under Alec’s shirt. “Alec...”

“Every time I have sex it’s about forgetting something,” Alec says. “It’s always to forget how I feel... so I can drown out the world around me. I’m scared that once we... that you’ll get tired of me. And I don’t want you to get tired of me, Magnus.” 

It’s quiet for a moment as Magnus stares down into Magnus’s eyes. He smiles, just slightly enough to see in the dark. “Oh, Alec...” his thumbs rub circles on Alec’s temples. “This isn’t just about me getting off. I love you, and I want you to enjoy it just as much as I do. And there’s nothing that I want to forget about. I certainly wouldn’t forget about you.” Alec’s mouth falls open, and Magnus leans down, kissing him again, with more passion than before. He feels Magnus’s hands travel back under his shirt, sliding around to his back. After a moment, he feels a familiar aching in his lower stomach, and he moans unintentionally as Magnus starts to move his hips in circles. “Do you trust me?” Magnus asks, his voice low, more guttural than he had heard it before. 

Alec turns his head, letting the other man kiss down his neck again. “Yes,” he whispers, and Magnus’s hand slides under the waistband of his shorts. He gasps as he feels Magnus’s hand tighten around him. Slowly, they both start losing clothing items. Alec’s eyes fall on Magnus’s side, at his tattoo, still intricate in the moonlight. He tries to touch Magnus, but every time the other man shakes his head, smiling against Alec’s skin. Magnus’s hands made Alec feel weak, and he just let the other man move him as he wanted to. 

As the night bore on, he felt Magnus’s hands all over his body, making him feel ways he didn’t know he could before. The first time he felt himself on the edge, he moaned loudly as Magnus took him over. “Alexander...” Magnus mutters, his forehead resting on the center of Alec’s back. “I’m happy you’re starting to open up more.” Alec’s fingers clench the pillow, his knuckles turning white.

By the end of the night, he was a withering mess, crying into the pillow, hoping Magnus couldn’t hear him. As the sun start to rise, the light turning to a pale orange, he looked up, and Magnus was just staring at him, his gaze gentle. They lied next to each other, still nude, the blankets forgotten. Alec reached out to the other man’s hand, their pinkies touching. Gently, Magnus grabbed his hand and squeezed, stopping Alec from shaking. The images of Underhill or Sebastian were long forgotten. 

“You know, you’re only supposed to use one at a time,” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his out of tune guitar. “Are you sure that isn’t dangerous?” 

“Shut up,” Alec responds, glaring at the other man as he applied a third nicotine patch to his arm. “I would like to see you not vape for two minutes.” 

“I’m not the one trying to give up their addiction,” Simon says, strumming a chord that rings out harshly, the notes clashing.

“I promised my mother,” Alec says. He closes his eyes shut for a moment, his forehead tense from his growing headache.

“You make a lot of promises to your mother,” Simon says. “And how many of them do you actually go through with?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Alec says. He steps back onto Simon’s old skateboard and bends his knees. In a swift motion he pops the tail, then flicks it with his other foot, making it flip in the air. He lands, his feet on the bolts. 

“ Steez ,” Simon says, smirking. “And I don’t care if you bring up my mother, because unlike yours she doesn’t... really care about what I do.  So, I don’t care about what she does.” 

“Simon, our entire lives she watched everything you did,” Alec says, sitting down on the skateboard. Outside, it was starting to get colder, making the sidewalks slightly scarcer. The falling leaves made the streets prettier, scattered with bright orange and red specks.

“I know,” Simon says. “But... after... you know... she was kind of over me. And over you. And Jace.”

“What happened?”

Simon pulls his vape pen out of his pocket and uses it, blowing the vapor into the crisp air. He watches it for a moment as it disappears. “She never kicked me out or anything... she’d never do that. A lot of lectures about how she couldn’t lose me like she lost my dad. The court-ordered rehab helped at first but then... I got lonely. Isabelle was lonely too. She reached out, and...  it kind of spiraled from there.” 

“You make it sound like Isabelle is the one who makes you the way you are,” Alec says. “She would never do something like that.” 

“I know she wouldn’t... but no matter how hard I tried to see past it, I saw you in her.” He sighs, holding out the  juul to Alec, who takes it. “And when I saw you, I saw Jace. And then I saw... that... night.” Alec blows out the vaper slowly, then quickly inhales it back, before blowing it out again, letting it disperse. Simon laughs, and they both earn dirty looks from an older couple walking by. “You know how hard it is to forget. I can’t do it, not like you.” 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alec mutters, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Sometimes it feels like it,” Simon says. “You spend so much time with Magnus... you’re devoted to recovery. It feels like...” he trails off. 

“Simon.” 

“It feels like I’m alone again,” Simon says. “Like I was when you and Jace first went away.”

“We were all alone, Simon,” Alec responds, hearing his voice getting louder. “Except you were out here... sulking in your bedroom while I was getting my ass beat by guards and cleaning blood off of concrete.”

“Sorry...” Simon starts. “You know... you don’t talk about it much.” 

“About what?” 

“Rikers.” 

“That’s a  conscious choice,” Alec says.

“It’s almost been two years since I last talked to Jace,” Simon says. “The last time I talked to him... he was pretty closed off. But I could tell something was going on. Something sketchy.” 

“Sounds like Jace  Herondale ,” Alec says. “There’s always something sketchy going on.” 

“You and I were just as much part of it as he was,” Simon says. 

“Not at first,” Alec says. “He saw who we were. And he took advantage of it.”

“And what were we?” 

“Vulnerable.” 

“You really hate  him, don’t you?” Simon asks, taking back the  juul after Alec takes another hit. 

“Don’t you?” 

“Sometimes,” Simon says. “But... maybe forgiving him is easier than holding the grudge.” 

“You don’t think he holds a grudge against me?” Alec asks, his gaze dark. “Or you?”

Before Simon can respond, a vaguely familiar face walks up the sidewalk toward them. Simon waves, and leans over to put his guitar in its case. “Alexander,” Raphael says, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, Alec takes it, and the other man helps him sit up. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He turns to Simon. “Are you ready?” 

“Yeah,” Simon says. “We’re going to a party in Suffolk, if you want to come.” He licks his chapped upper lip. “There’s going to be certain... activities that we will be partaking in.” 

Alec considers for a moment, but then feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He looks down and sees that he has several missed calls from his younger brother. “I’m  gonna have to take a rain check on that,” he says, his mind wandering to several different memories of him throwing up on a  stranger's bathroom floor. 

“Suit yourself,” Raphael says. “Could you tell Isabelle that I said hi?” He snickers, and Alec takes a deep breath. 

“Sure,” Alec says. He and Simon half hug each other, and then he watches as the other two men disappear around the corner. After a moment, he gets another call from Max, and he picks it up on the first ring. “Hey kid,” he answers. Max doesn’t say anything, but he can hear his brother breathing on the other line. “Max? Hello?” 

“I messed up,” Max blurts out. In the background, Alec could hear a crowd of voices speaking. 

“Where are you?” Alec asks, rubbing his hand through his shaggy hair. “Are you okay?” Max doesn’t answer. “Max?” 

“I need you to pick me up,” Max says.

“In California? Max I can’t just fly out and-” 

“No,” Max interrupts. “I’m at the Kings County  Sheriff's office.” 

“... _ what?”  _

_ “ _ I can explain when you get here. Just... please, it has to be you, it can’t be Mom or Dad. They’ll kill me.” 

“Well... you better count down the minutes because when I get  there, I’m going to be the one who kills you.” 

Alec feels his stomach turn when the officer walks Max out, his hands cuffed. The man’s badge shines in Alec’s face, and he feels himself start to break out a sweat. As soon as he walked into the building, he was sure that someone would somehow recognize him, and on a whim decide to arrest him again and put him back behind bars. Max signs out at the desk quietly, not looking at his older brother. As soon as they’re out of the office, the two brothers walk in silence for a few minutes toward the subway station.

“So...” Alec starts. “You pick where to start. The black eye... or the fact that you aren’t stuck in the library in Palo Alto right now prepping for your midterm.” 

Max sighs and stops walking, he groans and leans over, stretching his back. “Those metal benches hurt like hell,” he says, his head still upside down. He cracks his neck, and then pulls his upper body back up again. “I didn’t get a minute of sleep.” 

“Been there,” Alec says. They start walking again.

“I’m starving,” Max says. “Maybe we should go to the park. I’m dying for soft serve.” 

“First of all, it’s too cold for that,” Alec says. “And don’t make me ask twice.” 

“I...” Max starts. “I don’t know. At first it was nice... the weather was always warm, and the girls barely wore anything to class. Some frat guys invited me to a couple parties that I barely remember. But then... I just... started failing. I stopped going to class. I couldn’t leave my bed. I missed the city.” 

“You can miss the city and still go to class,” Alec says. “When did you fly in? Where’s your stuff.” Max doesn’t answer again, looking away. “Maxwell.” 

“I’ve been back in New York since the end of September.” 

“You... you what?” Alec stops, and the person behind them bumps his shoulder. The person complains under their breath and pushes past the two Lightwood siblings. “That’s over a month. Where the hell have you been all this time?” 

“Staying with some friends,” Max says, his cheeks turning a bright red. 

“So, you’ve been lying for weeks?” Alec asks. “The other day I asked you how  your English test went and you told me about the book.” 

“Well, look who raised me,” Max says. “I learned from the best.” 

Stopping again on the sidewalk, Alec looks over at his brother. “We’re going home,” Alec says. “I can’t wait to watch Mom kill you.” 

“Alec...”

“This is stupid, Max,” Alec says. “You should have told someone. We could’ve come out and visited or something. Or...”

“It’s for the best anyway,” Max says. “My card got declined last week at a sandwich shop, Alec.” 

“Well, I’m sure it was non-GMO organic anyway.” 

“It wasn’t the cheapest meal...” Max says. “But... a sandwich, Alec. I couldn’t afford to charge a sandwich to the card that Dad gave me.” 

“So?” 

“So, it means that Dad somehow figured out I was back in New York, got mad, and cancelled it. Or...He’s gone.”

“You worry too much,” he says. "And you still haven’t explained what happened to your eye.” 

“I... I was not happy about not getting my sandwich,” Max says, earning a glare from his older brother.

“And you got arrested how?” Alec asks, narrowing his gaze. 

“I... I was drunk. I got in a fight with the cashier.” 

“Max...” 

“It was my fault,” Max says. “I shouldn’t have picked a fight with a guy who probably benches my body weight.” 

“You shouldn’t have been drunk in public,” Alec says. “Or at all. We’re going home.” 

“No,” Max says, reaching out and touching Alec’s shoulder. “Not yet. Please.” 

“There isn’t anywhere to go,” Alec says. “Why are you even in Brooklyn? We don’t know anyone who lives out here.” That was a lie, Alec had been to Brooklyn numerous times to go to Jace’s apartment as a teenager.

“The Ferris wheel,” Max says. “I... I came to go to Coney Island. And ride the Ferris wheel.” 

“The Ferris  wheel ?” Alec asks. 

“I want to ride the Wonder Wheel,” Max says.

“Why? It’s cold outside, it’s probably closed anyway.”

“It’s not, I checked. Please, Alec,” Max pleads. “Then we can go, and you can watch Mom kick me out.” 

“She’s not going to kick you out.” 

“Alec, please.” 

After contemplating, and trying to work through his confusion for a moment, Alec shrugs. “Fine. But we’re going home right after.”

The walk to the boardwalk was short. Alec could feel his cheeks turning pink from the cold. As he expected, the line for the attraction was short, they didn’t have to wait at all. In the foggy late afternoon light, the lights looked dim. There were so little people around that it almost felt haunted. As they get into the ride, the employee closes the small gate. Alec and Max sit across from each other, and the wheel starts to turn, slowly.

Max’s hands grasp at the bench, his knuckles turning a pale white. His jaw clenches, and his face start to turn purple. “Are you okay?” Alec asks.

“I hate heights,” Max says, his breath short.

“Then why are we doing this?” Alec asks.

The ride comes to a pause, creaking, and Max’s eyes dart around. He glances over, down at the ground, and curses to himself. “Because I’m tired of being scared of everything all the time.” 

“Max...” 

“It’s true,” Max says. “I... Oh... fuck this...” he leans back, and the cart starts to sway, only making him panic more.

“Stop moving,” Alec says. They were high enough up that he could see the outline of the city in the distance, surrounded by the dense clouds. “You’ll only make it worse.” Max doesn’t answer, gasping for air. He wraps his hands around himself, shaking. Alec runs his hand over his hair and leans forward. “Okay... breath with me.” 

“What?” Max asks, his voice shaky.

“Breath with me, deep breaths,” Alec says. “In for four, out for four, okay?” Max nods, his eyes wide. “One, two...” Alec trails off, breathing in. He watches as Max’s chest rises, and then relaxes with his own. They do it for a couple minutes, as the ride starts moving again. This time it pauses at the top, the highest point. 

“Alec...” 

“Just keep breathing with me,” Alec says. He counts with his fingers, and Max watches again. Slowly, his breath relaxes, and Alec can see his shoulders drop the tension they were holding. “See? We’re fine.” 

“Yeah,” Max says. “We’re fine.” 

“It’s a nice view,” Alec says, looking over the side, down at the small group of people walking around. 

“I’m not looking down again,” Max says, sighing. “Baby steps, I guess.” 

Alec shrugs, leaning back on the hard seat. “What do you mean when you say that you’re tired of being afraid?” 

Max bites his nail for a moment, looking down at his feet. “I’m tired of being scared of heights. It feels... juvenile, I guess. I need to grow up.” 

“There’s a lot of people who are scared of heights. Adults too,” Alec says. “This isn’t just about riding the Wonder Wheel, is it?” 

“I...” Max starts, taking a deep breath. “I told myself that I didn’t like Stanford because I was tired of all the homework. And the parties were annoying. But... I guess the truth is that I just... felt alone. And I was terrified.”

“What about your roommate?” Alec asks, stretching out his arms. A light wind picked up, making the ride creak. “Didn’t you at least make some friends.” 

“I did, but... I mean, they weren’t really my  _ friends.  _ Just more rick kids who didn’t care about the world around them. Who were going to Aspen for winter break, and just got a new car when they crashed  it. People who had siblings who went to other Ivy League schools. Corporate lawyers and business majors. They just felt... fake, I guess. I was completely alone in a room full of people.” 

“I’ve felt that way before,” Alec says, his mind drifting to sitting in the yard at Rikers, watching as everyone else talked or worked out against the fence. The buses coming and going with visitors and new inmates, no one bothering to look at him. Unanswered phone calls to his parents at the payphone while listening to other people talking to their families.

“Then you know how it can... wear you down,” Max says. Alec nods, slowly, eyeing his brother. “When I left California, I pictured myself coming here. To the Wonder Wheel. But not just because I wanted to face my fear.” The ride moves again, rotating them downwards. “I wanted to jump off.” 

“Max...” Alec says, feeling his chest tightening. He rolls his neck for a moment, then looks back at his brother. “Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true,” Max says. “It would be the perfect place, right? It’s so happy, but this time of year it’s just... sad. Empty. I know you know how I feel. I don’t know exactly what happened a couple years ago with you. But I remember Mom coming home early from work, crying. And I remember her calling Rikers so many times they stopped picking up. I didn’t get it at first, but I figured it out eventually.”

Alec’s fingers graze the inside of his wrist, under his sleeve. They brush against the light scars there, lining his veins. “But you called me instead,” he says, his voice shaking. “That counts for something.” 

“I guess so,” Max says. “I’m weaker than I thought.” 

“No, you’re stronger than you thought,” Alec says, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Trust me on that.” Max doesn’t say anything as the door opens to the ride, and the two brothers get out, stepping back onto the boardwalk. For a couple minutes they walk in silence toward the subway station. 

At the train platform, Max leans in so Alec can hear him over the large group of people crowded with them. “Where did you learn that breathing exercise?” He asks. “Your therapist?” 

“No,” Alec answers. “It’s...uh... something Jace taught me. When we got arrested. I was freaking out... in withdrawal in a cell with him. He got me through it.” 

“Oh...” Max trails off, and the trains approaches, the lights coming from the dark tunnel. “Well... thanks. For picking me up and... talking to me.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Alec says, wrapping his arm around his younger brother, squeezing his shoulder. 

As Alec waits outside of Magnus’s office, he feels eyes staring at him. He had come at short notice, so he didn’t have time to change out of his sweatpants and hoodie before leaving for the school. Normally, Magnus had met him at the apartment after work. The other professors give him the side eye as they leave for the day, whispering to themselves. Finally, Magnus’s door opens, and an older man walks out, his face a dark shade of red. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Wilkins,” Magnus says, shaking the other man’s hand. “I’m sure next semester you’ll find that your new class list is much more suitable.” 

“Right, of course, Dr. Bane,” the old man says. “I’ll see you at the department Christmas party.” Magnus waves, and the older man storms out of the room. “Come in,” he says, gesturing to Alec. Once the door is closed, Alec finds himself being pulled in for a kiss. Magnus’s fingers grab at Alec’s hair, and he shutters at the feeling. After a moment, they pause, Magnus’s hand still cupping Alec’s butt. “I missed you.” 

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” Alec says, his voice shaky. Magnus pulls away and walks around to his desk, packing up his bag for the day.

“Well... having to break it to a tenured professor that he won’t be teaching his... apparently favorite class to teach anymore is a more heated conversation than I thought it would be. And despite the semester almost being over, I’m still newly their boss.” Alec shrugs, leaning against the door. “I got some complains from students. They weren’t happy with how he was teaching colonization. So, I... under  Ragnor’s advice... intervened. But it’s much easier when you’ve been in this office since the late eighties.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Magnus,” Alec says. “Do you need me to carry something, or...” 

“Not exactly,” Magnus says, logging out of his computer. He walks back around the desk, leading Alec out and shutting off the light. “We’re picking someone up, and I need some help. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He lowers his voice. “Any way you want me to.” Alec clenches his jaw, and they keep walking out of the building. As they get outside, he spots a familiar face waving. 

“Magnus,” Catarina says, a bright smile on her face. She rushes over, trailing someone behind her. “Thank you so much for doing this on such short notice.”

“It’s not a...” before Magnus can finish, a small child jumps at him, wrapping her short arms around his leg. “Problem.”

“Uncle Magnus!” The small girl exclaims, her voice high pitched. She was wrapped up in several coats, making it hard for her to move at all. Her bright pink scarf covered most of her face, making it hard for Alec to get a good look at her. 

“ Madzie ,” Magnus says, kneeling down so he can be face to face with the child. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” he says, kissing her cheek. “This is your Uncle Alec,” he says, gesturing up to Alec.

The girl jumps away from Magnus, and then latches onto Alec’s leg, squeezing tightly. His eyes widen, and he stands, stiff. “Hi,” the girl says, nestling her head into his thigh. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s... uh...” Alec trails off, his eyes meeting with Catarina, who gives him an expectant look. “It’s nice to... meet you, too.”

“Thanks again for doing this last minute, Magnus,” Catarina says. She looks over to Alec. “It’s just...” she looks up to Alec. “Madzie is my niece, who I now have full custody of. And I just got called to do an art show in Seattle, for this big dealer, and... it’s an opportunity I can’t miss. Magnus is the only person I trusted to call. Leaving Madzie with another artist would have been... difficult, considering most of my friends leave their paint and clay everywhere, and...”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Magnus says. “Alec and I can take care of her for a week just fine.” Alec looks between the other two, his eyebrows raised. 

“Well, it’s about time you put your relationship to the test,” Catarina says, laughing. Alec knew it was a joke, but his mind did drift to the worst scenario, that somehow over the next week he and Magnus would get in a fight, and never recover from it. After saying their goodbyes, he, Magnus, and  Madzie head for the train platform, the girl clinging to Magnus’s hand tight enough to make it ache, and Alec knew they had a long week ahead of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoy the story so far. I'm going to be publishing slightly shorter chapters, in the interest of publishing more frequently.


	12. You Killed Me on the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for themes of child abuse !

The weekend went by a lot faster than Alec thought it would. With  Madzie keeping Magnus busy, Alec found himself sitting on the sideline, watching as the two played pretend or watched cartoons on the T.V. He hadn’t realized how awkward he would feel around  Madzie . She was outgoing and overly talkative, but for the most part Alec couldn’t understand what she was saying. Magnus seemed to already have a strong bond with her. He hadn’t mentioned her before, despite how close they seemed. Whenever she approached Alec, he got closed off. He wasn’t sure why Catarina had custody of her, but neither she nor Magnus mentioned it. There was such innocence to the little girl. Alec couldn’t place the last time he had been around a child. Not since Max was younger, but even then, Alec got so wrapped up in himself during high school that he barely had made time to bond with his younger brother. 

On Monday morning, Alec woke up on Magnus’s couch, smothered by the other man, his face covered with his chest. He groans, trying to move, and Magnus stirs on top of him. “Magnus,” he mutters, his hands travelling to the other man’s hip. Outside, the sun was rising, the light leaking into the room through the curtains. “Magnus,” Alec says again, his voice louder. 

Magnus flinches, and rolls over, sliding off the couch, onto the wood floor. Alec shifts his body, lying face down on the couch, letting his arm hang over the cushion, caressing Magnus’s hair. “I seem to have forgotten that I let the seven-year-old take over my king bed for the week.” He sighs, slowly opening his eyes. “What time is it?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

Alec glances over at the clock. “Almost six a.m.” he answers, feeling his head starting to pound from exhaustion.  Madzie had had trouble sleeping, resulting in the two men staying up with her. Magnus told her stories, mostly from the Odyssey, which seemed to bore her to sleep. Alec had just watched, his eyes falling on how at ease Magnus was with the child.

“Shower with me?” Magnus asks, smirking. Alec bites his lip, looking away, burying his face in the couch cushion. “I don’t have to leave for an hour.”

“Leave?” Alec asks, forcing his body up, his arms shaking.

“It’s Monday,” Magnus says. “I have classes to teach.” He stands up from the floor, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, Alec takes it, letting the other man lead him to the bathroom. “And students to advise.” He slips off his t-shirt, and turns the water on.

“So, you’re just... leaving me with her?” Alec asks as Magnus’s hands slide under his shirt. He lifts his arms as the other man pulls the fabric above his head.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” Magnus asks, moving his hands to Alec’s sweatpants. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, but I can’t just cancel all my classes, and it’s too short notice to get them covered.  Madzie is simple, and sweet. And you are compassionate, and understanding. I’m sure you will be just fine until this evening.”

“Magnus, I can’t do this,” Alec says. He feels the steamy air hit his legs, and Magnus strips himself of the rest of his clothes as well. Together, they step in, careful to not slip. The hot water hits Alec’s back, loosening up his back muscles from their night on the couch.

“If you need help, you can call me,” Magnus says, spreading shampoo in his own hair, and then moving to Alec’s. “You’ll be okay, you just need to keep her entertained. There’s food in the kitchen.” His fingers massage Alec’s scalp, gently pulling on the hair.

“What if something bad happens?” Alec asks. “What if she...” he trails off as Magnus’s hands travel down his back, his thumbs rubbing into the stiff muscles. 

“You worry too much,” Magnus whispers, his voice barely audible over the water hitting the floor. “I’ll make it up you,” his hand curls around Alec’s hip bone. “I promise.”

A couple hours later, Alec finds himself sitting on the floor in front of the T.V. Next to him,  Madzie finishes her second bowl of oatmeal, her eyes glued to the cartoon on the screen. He felt guilty, like he was letting her brain rot, but he couldn’t bring himself to try and keep up conversation. The show comes to a close, the colorful credits rolling, and the little girl looks over at him. At first, he doesn’t look over, instead focusing on the commercials. But when she doesn’t look away, he slowly turns his head. For a moment, their eyes meet, and he feels himself starting to panic. 

“You’re tall,” the little girl says, her eyes scanning Alec up and down. “I think you’re the tallest man I’ve ever seen.” 

“Uh... Thanks,” Alec says.

“I’m bored,”  Madzie continues as she stands up, walking around the couch.

“We can keep watching T.V.” 

“I don’t want to watch that,”  Madzie says. Her eyes dart to the bookshelves, towering over her, over-stuffed. “Can you read something to me?” 

Alec gets up, using the couch for leverage. He walks over to the little girl, looking at all of the books. Several them were textbooks or academic journals, nothing she would be interested in. “Aren’t you learning how to read in school?” Alec asks, pulling out a book. On the cover, he sees the statue of David, his eyes travelling to the exposed area. Quickly, he slips it back in. 

“Yes, but Aunt Catarina wants me to take a break from school, and I want to hear  _ you _ tell me a story,”  Madzie says. From the bottom shelf, she pulls out a book and hands it to him. “This one,” she says, holding it up for him. Taking the book out of her hands, Alec’s eyes scan over the cover. “I like her shoes.” 

“ _ The Bell Jar?” _

“Yes. Please.” 

Shrugging, the two travel back to the couch, Alec sitting on the edge, and Madzie closer to him than he expected she would sit. Their knees touch, and she watches intently as he opens the book to the first page. “No pictures,” Alec says, looking down at her. 

“Just read it,”  Madzie says, closing her eyes. She rests her head on his shoulder, and he takes a deep breath. 

“Uh...” Alec starts, looking between her and the first page. “ _ It was a queer, sultry summer... the summer they elec... electrocuted the  _ _ Rosenburgs _ _...”  _ He bites his lip, contemplating for a moment if he should keep going, when  Madzie’s eyes open again, and she looks at him expectantly. “ _ And I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.”  _ He stops, closing the book. 

“Hey, keep-”

“It’s kind of...” 

“Just read. Please.” 

Taking another deep breath, Alec continues, wary of what was coming. “ _ I’m stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and...”  _ He stops again, this time his mind drifting to invasive thoughts. An image of himself in a chair, dressed in orange. For a moment he swears he feels handcuffs on his wrist, and his heartrate quickens.  Madzie gently places her pointer finger on page in the book, the next sentence marked by her finger nail. “Okay,” Alec says, gathering himself before continuing. “ _ It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like, being burned-”  _ he stops again, this time closing the book. 

“But I want-” 

“Magnus can read it to you later,” Alec says, standing up and putting it back. She follows him, crossing her arms in a pout. “Let’s just pick something else.” Together, they look over both of the shelves, but as expected, it was all literature that Alec couldn’t even understand, much less a child. “Okay, uh...”

“I’m thirsty. I want juice,” Madzie says. 

“I’m sure Magnus has something in here for you,” Alec says, walking over to the fridge, Madzie hot on his tail. He opens the fridge, his eyes scanning over what little contents there were. Nothing sweet at all, and certainly not any juice. 

“What about that?” Madzie asks, pointing up at the cabinet above the oven.

Alec looks up, seeing the many half empty bottles of wine Magnus had moved when Alec started sleeping over. “Tempting,” he says to the little girl. “But you’re going to have to be a little older for that.” 

“This isn’t fair,”  Madzie says. “I want juice.” 

“There isn’t any juice.” 

“Aunt Catarina would get me juice,”  Madzie says, her voice getting louder. “When she went  away, she said that Uncle Magnus would get me anything I wanted.” 

“Well I’m not Magnus,” Alec snaps. His voice wasn’t loud, but he could see how the change of tone had affected the child.  Madzie’s face drops, and she turns and walk away, down the hallway. “Madzie, wait-” 

“No!” She yells over her shoulder. “You’re mean, and I don’t want to be around you anymore.” Her voice cracks at the last word, and she slams the bedroom door just as Alec gets to it. 

“ Madzie , I’m sorry,” Alec says through the door. He can see her shadow at his feet, peeking through the crack.

“No, you aren’t,”  Madzie says, her voice muffled. “That’s what everyone says. But it’s not true. Not really.” 

“What are you talking about?” Alec asks, resting his hand on the wall. 

“When you said you were sorry. You were lying. I can’t be tricked anymore.” 

Alec sighs, leaning against the wall. He lets his body give out, sliding down until he hits the floor. For a moment he sits, watching as the little girl's shadow comes and goes. “Madzie, I really am sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just... I’m new to this, okay? I don’t normally hang out with kids.” She doesn’t say anything, but he can see her shadow reappear from the other side of the door. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. It’s just... that’s how my parents used to talk to me, so I didn’t know any better.” 

Slowly, the door creaks open, revealing the little girl. Her eyes were still wet, and she was frowning. “You aren’t my dad,”  Madzie says, stepping out of the room. “Neither is Uncle Magnus. I don’t get to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t talk to my dad anymore either,” Alec says. “Not much, anyway.”

“Why not?”  Madzie asks, sitting down next to him, crossing her legs. 

“He’s not a very nice person,” Alec says. 

“Why?” 

“Because he... just isn’t.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

Alec sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “He’s not a nice person. He was mean to me when I was a kid, because he’s bad. He’s a bad person. And now I’m a bad person, just like him.” 

“Why are you a bad person?” 

“That’s a good question,” Alec says, looking over at  Madzie . Her eyes are wide, but he could tell she was listening intently. “I... did a bad thing. Seven years ago.” 

“I’m seven,” she says. 

“Right... I did a bad thing. Way back when you were just born,” the little girl smiles. “And sometimes I forget about it, when I shouldn’t. Which makes me a bad person.” 

“Did you get punished for it?”  Madzie asks. “When I’m bad, Aunt Catarina sends me to my room, with no toys or T.V.”

“Yeah, I did...” Alec says. “Six years. No toys, or T.V.” He watches as the little girl’s mouth drops in shock. He laughs, and she catches on, laughing too. 

“That’s too long,”  Madzie says, standing up. She holds out her small hand, and gently, Alec takes it, standing up too.

“Not long enough, in my opinion,” Alec mutters. She leads him back to the living room, and turns the T.V. back on. For a while, they sit and watch cartoons, until she starts to squirm next to him. At first, he ignores it, but when he glances over again, he can hear her stomach growling. 

“Time for lunch, I guess,” he says, and she shrugs. A few minutes later, he finds himself in the kitchen, waiting for the water on the stove to start boiling.  Madzie watches him from her spot at the table, her feet hanging from the chair. 

“How do you know Uncle Magnus?” she asks, resting her chin on her hand.

“We’re... good friends,” Alec says.

“I know, but... how do you  _ know  _ him?” 

Alec shrugs. “We met at... school,” he says.

“How?” 

“Uh... you are very curious,” Alec says.  Madzie snickers at him, kicking her feet in front of her. “Magnus helped me with my schoolwork. When we were finished, we kept seeing each other.” 

“That’s boring,”  Madzie says. 

“Yeah, it is,” Alec says. “I’m not very interesting, am I?” 

“You’re more interesting that Uncle Magnus,”  Madzie says. “You don’t make me listen to stories I can’t understand.” Alec laughs, pouring in the mac and cheese mix. For a while the two talk about small things. Their favorite animals, colors. The kind of movies they like to watch. It felt nice to just talk to someone about nothing. It didn’t matter how plain the subject was,  Madzie was interested. Alec sets out two bowls of the boxed food, and watches as the little girl takes her first bite. Within a second, she scowls, pushing the bowl away. “Gross.” 

“What?” Alec says. “You don’t like it?” He mixes his, and then takes a bite himself. The noodles are hard to chew, and he can taste the artificial cheese in thick clumps. “It’s good,” he forces out. 

“Then eat it,”  Madzie says. 

“I will,” Alec says, smirking. He takes another bite, ignoring the taste, and forces himself to swallow it.  Madzie watches him, her eyes widening, and suddenly he grabs his throat. He coughs, overly exaggerating it, his eyes rolling back. It was something he used to do as a child to make fun of his mother’s cooking with Isabelle. She had always laughed, and they would hide it when Maryse came back in. But  Madzie isn’t Isabelle. Tears start to fill in her eyes, and she gets off the chair, covering her mouth. Alec could see her starting to panic, and he abruptly stops. “I’m fine,” he says, letting go of his throat. He could feel that his face was turning red. “It’s okay, see? I’m just joking.” 

“That wasn’t funny,”  Madzie says, turning away from him, her voice quiet. Alec immediately felt guilty as a single tear fell down her cheek. “That was scary.” He reaches out, but the little girl steps out of reach.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize-”

“I want Catarina,”  Madzie says, raising her voice. “I don’t want to be here with you anymore. I want my parents.”

Alec bites his nail for a moment, looking around the room. He felt his breathing starting to become unstable as his heartrate went up. She watched as he paced the room, contemplating his choices. He wanted to call Magnus, but he feared if he did the other man would just see him as incompetent. After all, who could see a future with someone who made little girls cry? There were still hours before Magnus would be back to clean up Alec’s mess. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he needed help. “Let’s go get you juice,” Alec says. “Get your coat.” 

“No, I don’t want to.” 

“ Madzie ...” Alec sighs. “Look, I’ll buy you juice, and whatever candy you want at a bodega. I know you don’t like me, but please... let me make it up to you.” The little girl stares at Alec, her eyes dark. Without a word, she walks down the hallway, then swiftly returns, wearing her fur coat. Alec pulls on his own jacket and the two head out of the apartment, down the steps. 

Outside it was cold, the grey clouds blocking the sun. He held his hand out, and she took it, her hand small enough that his completely covered it. On the street corner, they enter the store, and he lets  Madzie pick out several treats of her own. After they checked out, he looked at his phone for the time, seeing a text from Magnus checking in. Alec sighs and turns off the device. As the two stood at the traffic light, he tried to think of who would be willing to suddenly help him with the girl. His mother was working, but he knew if he explained what happened she would come home. The only issue was that Max was at home too, sulking in his room. Every afternoon since he came home Maryse chewed him out, and Alec was afraid the tension would build again, and  Madzie would have to witness it. Simon was a natural with kids, but Alec knew it would be risky bringing  Madzie to his apartment. He was sure there were drugs hidden in places. Alec waves at a taxi, and he and  Madzie climb in. 

“Address?” The driver asks, looking back through the screen. 

“Uh...” Alec starts. Shrugging, he gives the man directions to go to Isabelle’s apartment. 

Not even thirty minutes later, Alec and  Madzie were outside of his sister’s apartment door. He wasn’t sure of Isabelle’s schedule, but he hoped she was home.  Madzie was squirming, getting hyper from the candy he had bought her already. Alec knocks, and together, they wait. After a minute, the door opens, revealing Clary. She raises her eyebrows in surprise, and brushes her hair out of her face. “Alec? Oh... I wasn’t expecting you... Isabelle isn’t here and...” she glances down. “You brought company.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alec mutters. “I didn’t... I’m not really... you know...” 

“It’s okay,” Clary says, kneeling down to be eye to eye with the little girl. “I’m Clary. What’s your name?” 

Madzie looks at her, chocolate still on her lips from the cab ride. “Madzie.” 

“Well... it’s nice to meet you,  Madzie . Why don’t you come in? It’s freezing outside.” The three  step into the apartment, and Clary shuts the door behind her. Alec couldn’t help but notice how messy her hair was, and how her mascara was smeared. She was still dressed in a nightgown and a robe, despite it already being the early afternoon. “So... how do you two... know each other?” 

“Magnus is watching her for the week,” Alec says. “But he has work, and... I don’t, so...” 

“Right,” Clary says. Alec could feel the awkward tension already building between them. “It’s sweet that he trusts you with her.” 

“I guess.” 

“So...  Madzie ...” Clary turns on the living room light. “What are your favorite things?” She asks.  Madzie looks at her, tilting her head. “I like to draw and paint. Would you like to draw or paint?”  Madzie nods, and Clary smiles. Alec watches as she opens a closet, pulling out a box of colored pencils. They were professional grade, but looked old, most of them halfway used. Clary puts out a stack of paper on the coffee table, sitting on the floor.  Madzie follows suit, sitting next to her. Sheepishly, the little girl picks up a colored pencil, contemplating. “What should we draw?”

Madzie shrugs. “I like ponies,” she says. 

“I like ponies too,” Clary says. She looks up at Alec, and nods her head toward the floor. Hesitantly, he sits down on the other side of the little girl, his knees bumping the legs of the table. As Clary’s pencil glides across the paper,  Madzie does the same, and for a while they sit in silence, drawing. Alec looks around, trying to look busy. His eyes fall on the box of colored pencils. There was faded sharpie on the top of the box. He squints, trying to read it.  _ Happy Birthday Clare. Hope this makes it up to you. J.  _

“So... is Izzy going to be home soon, or...” Alec starts, but he trails off, feeling bad for imposing. 

“She usually gets home after six,” Clary answers. “But don’t worry about it. It’s a good distraction. Besides, look at how cute this little thing is,” she says, smiling at  Madzie . The little girl blushes, pressing the colored pencil harder into her paper.

“Thank you,” Alec says. “I know we just showed up, and... Magnus’s apartment isn’t really... kid friendly, and-” 

“I already said, it’s fine,” Clary says.

Alec watches  Madzie’s hands for a moment as she colored in a blob shape that he couldn’t figure out. He looked up again, catching Clary looking at him, and they both quickly avert their glances. His eyes fall on the handwriting on the box. “So...” Alec starts.

“I should apologize,” Clary says. “About last week.” 

“What happened last week?” Alec asks. 

“The haunted house,” Clary says. “Simon and I shouldn’t have been arguing like that. Especially in front of Magnus and Maia. You were reaching out, and we completely botched it.” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says. “I can barely remember it anyway.” His mind drifts to that night, the feeling of Magnus’s soft hands gliding on his skin. Clary looks at him for a moment, but then looks back down at her sketch. “Um...” Alec continues. “What’s wrong? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Oh, nothing,” Clary answers. Alec shrugs. He knew what it was like to be asked a question you didn’t want to hear. For a couple minutes they sit in silence again, until Clary stands up. “Um... I’ll be right back.” She walks out to the kitchen, the door swinging behind her. 

“What are you drawing?” Alec asks, looking at  Madzie’s colorful sketch. 

“It’s me, and Magnus, and you. With ponies,” the little girl answers. Alec wasn’t sure which blob with arms was supposed to be him, but he assumed when she was done, he would be able to figure it out. After a while, with Clary still gone, Alec makes sure that  Madzie is focused enough, and he walks to the kitchen. 

When he opens the door, he sees the woman sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have...” 

“It’s okay,” Clary says, her voice cracking. “I just... I didn’t want to make  Madzie sad.” 

Alec scoffs. “Well, I already made her cry once today, so...” he steps forward, unsure. Clary looks up, their eyes meeting. “Um... do you want to talk about it?” 

Clary wipes a tear from her eye and leans back. “It’s... it’s stupid. I’m supposed to be in the studio today, working on this piece I’ve been prepping for but... this morning I got a call. From Otisville.” Alec bites his lip, hard enough that he tastes metallic on his tongue. “I haven’t gotten a call from Jace since... in a couple years, I guess... and suddenly he decided to call.” 

“What did he say?” Alec asks. He thinks of that night. The blood on his shoes. Simon crying. When he kissed Jace. 

“Not much,” Clary answers. “He told me he misses me. And the stupid thing is that I miss him. No matter how much I try not to. I mean... he cheated on me more times than I can keep up with. And then... almost seven years ago... he goes to jail and I still can’t let him go.” 

Alec sits down at the table across from her, curling up in the chair. He brings his knees to his chest, letting his shins hit the edge of the table. “Did he call you a lot? Did you visit him?” 

Clary pushes her hair behind her ears. “The first couple of years I drove all the way out there every weekend. We called as much as we could, but it cost so much to even talk for a couple of minutes... over time we go more distance. In the third year, on the phone, Jace told me to stop visiting. But I didn’t want to. It wasn’t until Simon’s third time in rehab that I decided to stop going. The calls slowly went away. Until this morning. I just... I don’t get why he would call. He asked me how I was. I still can’t believe it, I...” 

“I know how you feel,” Alec says. “I... I miss Jace. Every day. I haven’t talked to him since... since we got separated at the court house.” In his head he can hear his own voice, the other boy’s name echoing off the wooden floors. “There is... or was... just... something about him. I missed everyone when I was at Rikers. But... I don’t think there was a day that went by where I didn’t think about him. I just wanted to be sixteen again... sitting in the park with him... or joking in the back of the classroom... or...” he sighs, looking out the window behind Clary. 

“I thought I was the only one who was this ridiculous,” Clary says, a small laugh leaving her lips. “I felt crazy for missing him so much. I missed you too, you know. I just didn’t think you would want to see me. I always got the impression that you didn’t like me.” 

“No, that’s not... it,” Alec says. “You aren’t crazy. Jace loved you. Loves you. I know he does. He never stopped talking about you.” 

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Clary says. “But I know how he was. He went home with other girls all the time. You don’t have to cover for him to make me feel better.” 

“He never stopped talking about you,” Alec repeats. Clary purses her lips, looking at him, her skin glowing in the dim kitchen lighting. “That was why I didn’t like you. It has nothing to do with you... it was about me. And him.” They stare at each other, until Clary’s face lights up, and she looks away. 

“You and Jace...” she starts. “You were...” 

“No,” Alec interrupts. “But I wanted to be. I... I was in love with him. Helplessly. And I thought maybe, by some off chance... he felt the same way. But then he met you.” 

Clary stands up, walking around the table. She stands next to Alec, looking down at him. “I didn’t know. I’m... sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize. He’s straight anyway.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through heartbreak like that,” Clary says, wrapping her arms around Alec, squeezing. Reluctantly, he returns the favor, turning his body in the chair so he could hug her back. “Is that why you confessed? In the courtroom.” 

“I told the truth,” Alec says, his face buried in her shoulder. She smelled like vanilla, the same perfume that he used to smell on Jace’s jacket in high school.

“But they didn’t ask you,” Clary says. “You know...” she pulls away, slowly. “All these years... I never understood why you did what you did in court. Why you took the jail time instead of just going to rehab like Simon did. But... you wanted to go with him, didn’t you?” Gritting his teeth, Alec nods, looking at Clary’s eyes, still shiny from her tears. “Oh, Alec... I would’ve done the same.” 

For the rest of the afternoon, the two keep  Madzie busy. She makes several drawings, handing one to Clary and one to Alec to keep. Although it was hard for Alec to tell what exactly he was looking at, he had assumed the circle with scribbled black hair was him. Despite how rough the morning had been, Alec could see that  Madzie had calmed down. By the time Magnus comes by the pick them up, she’s fast asleep on the couch in between Clary and Alec, content.

“So, how was day one? Do I need to take the rest of the day off?” Magnus whispers as he and Alec walk out of the apartment building.  Madzie was slung over Alec’s back, her head resting on his shoulder. She was a little big to be carried, but he worked through it anyway, despite the pain he knew he would feel in the morning. 

“I think we’ll be okay,” Alec says, listening to the small girl breath gently into his ear. 

On the last day with  Madzie , Alec and Magnus take her out to dinner at a smaller restaurant nearby. As they sit together, Alec couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness in his chest knowing that it was their last night with the child. Despite confessing to her that he was a bad person, who had done bad things, she didn’t seem to care. She just took Alec as he was in the moment, instead of dwelling on the past like everyone else in his life did. He watches with a sad gaze as she plays with her food, dragging the spaghetti back and forth.

“Thank you for watching her,” Magnus says. quietly into Alec's ear. "I know it was hard. I thought about you all week at the school." 

“It was fine, Magnus,” Alec says. “Clary helped a lot, so...” 

“It seems like you two are getting along much better than before. I’m happy that you’re able to reconcile.” 

“Yeah, well... we have more in common than I originally thought.” 

“That’s often how it goes...” The waiter comes back and refills their glasses, asking about dessert. Looking between  Madzie and Alec for a moment, Magnus orders a slice of lava cake. The little girl beams at him. “Catarina is going to be thrilled to hear how much sweets we let her have this week.” 

“I’ll take the blame for it,” Alec says, thinking back to the many pieces of candy he let  Madzie have while he was watching her. He had found it to be the easiest way keep her in a good mood.

“Or we could just not tell her about it,” Magnus says, smirking. The cake arrives, and  Madzie quickly shoves her plate of spaghetti out of the way in favor of the chocolate dessert. Alec watches as Magnus picks up his fork, taking a small bite of the cake. “You should have some,” Magnus says, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“Oh, no...” Alec says. He had already eaten his food, and didn’t feel as though he deserved to treat himself. 

“Alec...” 

“It’s fine, Magnus...” 

“You say that a lot,”  Madzie says suddenly. The two men look over at her. She had the chocolate sauce smeared on her chin. “I’m fine, it’s fine. You’re like a robot.”

Alec shrugs, looking at the young girl. As their eyes met, he got the feeling that she understood more than he realized. He didn’t know if it was because a seven-year-old was still a toddler in his eyes, or because of however she ended up living with Catarina instead of her parents. “I am a robot,” Alec says. “And I was sent here to destroy the human race. Starting with messy little girls.” 

Madzie smiles and takes another bite of the cake. He could see her already getting hyper from the sugar. “But then you met... Uncle Magnus. The savior of the planet!” She says, laughing, her voice loud enough that a few of the other patrons look in their direction. 

“How do you know that I’m not also a robot sent here to take over Earth?” Magnus asks, his eyes lighting up in amusement. “And that Alec and I are allies?” 

“No, that’s not how the story goes...”  Madzie says. “Alec is a robot. And you’re the human who stops him and saves all of us by taking care of him with hugs and kisses.” She digs into the last bite of the cake while Magnus and Alec look at each other. Alec blushes, feeling Magnus’s hand on his knee under the table. He rests his hand on top of the other man’s, staying quiet for the rest of dinner. 

It’s hard to say goodbye to  Madzie when Catarina picks her up on her way back to the airport. She runs and hugs Alec for a while, burying her head into his chest. He stares down at the floor behind her, hugging her back tightly. Once she’s gone, he lies down on the couch, his head resting in Magnus’s lap. “I could tell you were panicked on Monday morning,” Magnus says, his hand gently tracing circles in Alec’s hair. “When I asked you watch her. I’m not going to lie, I was worried, but you pulled it off.”

“I already said it’s... okay... Magnus,” Alec says. “I like her. Plus, bribing her with candy seemed like an easy solution.” 

Magnus laughs, gently. “I must admit... work wasn’t the only reason that I left her with you all day this week. It was selfish of me, but... being around small children is hard for me. Especially Madzie. It only reminds me of my own childhood. Or... lack thereof. It was selfish of me to project my own emotions onto you, and impose on your so much, I-”

“Magnus. I really don’t mind,” Alec says. “All I do is... project my own emotions onto you. It’s only fair that you get to do the same.” He grabs Magnus’s hand, kissing each of his knuckles. 

“ Madzie lost her parents less than a year ago,” Magnus says. “I don’t know the details. That’s when she moved in with Catarina, my best friend... who needed help, and I couldn’t because it was far too... emotionally demanding on me. It’s why I was so eager to watch her with such short notice this week. And even then... I could barely do that. She’s a smart little girl. She can be a handful, but she’s observant, and somehow can tell if you’re upset, no matter how hard you try to hide it. Even at a young age, she can see your vulnerability. Because she’s so vulnerable herself. And she... reminds me of myself so much. I get scared for her, because I don’t want her to feel as lonely as I did.” Alec doesn’t say anything, he just keeps his lips on the other man’s hand, trailing them up and down his fingers. “Although she is lucky. She has Catarina.” 

“And she has us,” Alec says, his breath hot against Magnus’s skin. “And now Clary, at the very least. You don’t need to worry about her, Magnus. You were there for her this week. You’ll be there for her in the future. I know you well enough to say that with confidence.” Magnus smiles, just slightly, leaning his head back. After just a week with the little girl, they were both exhausted, and within minutes they’re both asleep, still in their clothes, with the lights on. 

_ When Jace would ask Alec to hang out with him, minus Simon, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. But in his own selfish desire to grow closer to the other boy, he always said yes on days like these. School was still in session, but they had left during the lunch period and taken the subway to Brooklyn to go to Jace’s apartment. When they walked in, Alec’s eyes immediately fell to the mess. The table was covered with leftover takeout boxes. An old slice of pizza still sat on a paper plate; the crust hard. Articles of clothing were scattered around the living room, a mix of both Jace’s and his father’s. Alec recognized a pair of Jace’s gym shorts lying on top of the stained plaid couch. It smelled like a mix of tobacco and Jace’s cologne. _

_ The two boys walk further into the apartment, dropping their bags at the door. “Don’t bother to take your shoes off,” Jace says. “It doesn’t matter to us.” Alec doesn’t say anything, instead he just follows Jace to his bedroom, and he shuts the door behind them. The walls were covered in posters, a mixture of old horror movie scenes and the metal bands that Jace had liked. Above his bed there was several old skate decks pinned to the wall, the bottoms scraped. Alec noticed a couple pairs of the other boy’s boxers lying on the floor next to the bed, and he bit his lip, feeling his lower stomach tighten up. Silently, he watches as Jace walks to his dresser, picking up his bong.  _

_ For a while they sit on Jace’s bed, facing each other. Their knees touch, and Alec slides off his jacket, placing it in his lap. In his mind, he cursed himself for feeling such a longing for his best friend, but after a couple years he knew it couldn’t be helped. Jace doesn’t seem to notice, more focused on how light-headed he was getting. Eventually, Alec feels his body completely relax, and he lies down on the bed, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. _

_ “Do you want to see something cool?” Jace asks, his voice low and hoarse. He smirks, and Alec feels his cheeks turn a bright pink.  _

_ “Sure,” Alec says. Jace rolls over on the bed until his feet hit the floor, and he stands up. He holds a hand out to Alec, who takes it. The back of his neck tingles at the other boy’s touch. Jace walks them to a room that Alec had known was off-limits every time they were over. Jace’s father’s room. It was surprising bare, although the bed wasn’t made. Jace walks to the dresser, where a picture of a young woman with eyes the same as his sat. Alec watches as Jace pulls out something from the top drawer. His eyes widen as he realizes it’s a gun. “It’s a Colt Pocket Hammerless,” Jace says, smirking. “I read online that gangsters used to use it for hits. It hits harder than a normal handheld.”  _

_ “Jace,” Alec says, feeling his chest starting to tighten. “We shouldn’t be-” he’s interrupted by the front door closing. Footsteps drag on the carpet, and he hears a grunting. He feels his muscles tighten as the bedroom door opens, revealing Jace’s father.  _

_ He had only seen the man a couple of times, but he remembered how much they looked alike. They shared the same piercing gaze. His hair was blonde, similar to the teens, but was thinner on his head, cut much shorter. He was skinny, his cheeks hollow. His stubble was rough, and he had shaved unevenly. “Stephen,” Jace says, visibly clenching his jaw. Alec looks between the two, his eyes wide. “I thought you were supposed to be working today.”  _

_ “I told you not to call me that, Jonathan,” the man says. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Who’s this?”  _

_ Jace looks at Alec, but his expression was unreadable. “My friend,” Jace says. _

_ “Well, get your  _ friend  _ and get the hell out,” Stephen says, dropping a tool bag on the floor next to him. “And put that away. You’re too much of a pussy to do anything with it anyway.” Alec backs up, his back hitting the dresser. He could smell alcohol on the man’s breath, even from six feet away.  _

_ “You don’t know anything about me,” Jace says. As Stephen opens his mouth to respond, suddenly Jace raises his arm, pointing the pistol at his father. _

_ “Jace...” Alec whispers, his eyes widening at the sight, but his friend doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, the father and son stare at each other, their eyebrows narrowing.  _

_ “And what are you  _ _ gonna _ _ do with that?” Stephen asks, raising his voice. “You aren’t  _ _ gonna _ _ shoot me, kid.” Jace turns the safety off, and the gun clicks. “Do it.” Stephen watches as his son lowers his gaze, looking at his father through the strands of hair that fell into his face. “What? You’re just  _ _ gonna _ _ stand there? Fucking do it. Kill me. I know you want to.” Jace lifts his head again, his hand shaking. He takes a deep breath, and drops the gun to his side, turning the safety back on. “That’s what I fucking thought.” _

_ “Go home,” Jace mutters to Alec, turning around. He places the gun back in the top drawer of the dresser.  _

_ “But...” Alec starts, whispering.  _

_ “Leave,” Jace says, his voice louder. He doesn’t bother to look up from the drawer. “Now.” As much as he wanted to take Jace’s hand and take him with him, Alec could tell he wouldn’t budge. Quickly, Alec walks out of the room, pushing past Stephen, who’s digging through his tool bag. As Alec struggles to put his backpack on quickly, he hears Jace’s voice call out from the bedroom. Alec opens the door and slams it behind him. The rest of the night all he heard was the sound of Jace screaming in pain.  _

_ The next night, a Saturday, Simon and Alec met Jace at a party. He was already drunk when they got there, a girl who wasn’t Clary sitting in his lap. She ran her hands up and down his chest as he told her the story of how he had gotten in a fight the day before, and that she should see the other guy. But as Alec looked at Jace’s eye, swollen and purple, he knew the truth, and made a quick beeline for the bathroom to get high enough he could forget.  _

Alec steps out onto the sidewalk after a therapy session with Dr. Garroway a couple of weeks after watching  Madzie . He felt himself pulling away from his therapist again, but he couldn’t figure out why. His parole would be up just after the new year, but first he had to get through December. It was still slippery from the snow fall they had the night before. Despite the cold weather, the streets were still crowded as people started buying gifts for their loved ones. Alec had grown to hate Christmas over the years. Growing up, it was a day where he and his siblings would get showered with material items, to make up for the lack of affection their parents gave them. At Riker’s he got one gift in six years, a poorly drawn and explicit sketch from Sebastian. 

Just as he reaches a traffic light, waiting to cross in the crowd, his phone starts ringing. The number is unfamiliar, and he almost doesn’t answer it. When he holds the phone up to his ear, he hears an automated message. “ _ An inmate from Otisville Correctional Facility is trying to contact you. To answer, press 1. To block this number, press-”  _ Without thinking, Alec presses 1 on the keypad. 

On the other line, he hears the sound of steady breathing. In the background he can hear a crowd murmuring, all the voices low pitched. He stands, frozen, but doesn’t hang up the phone. Someone checks his shoulder, pushing him forward. “Are you  gonna walk, buddy?” A man complains, giving Alec a dirty look. Around him, the crowd moves, pushing past him as they cross the street. But Alec stays where he is, and the world around him becomes a distant memory. The breathing in his ear slows to a stop, and then the call ends. Alec checks the time, nearly five minutes. He knew it cost over a dollar a minute to call someone. The next time the light turns green, he walks with the crowd, choosing to walk the way home instead of taking the train. 

He didn’t understand why Jace would call him suddenly. They hadn’t spoken in seven years. Alec mind wandered to that night at the store. The blood on his shoes. Simon screaming. The gun shot. He remembers how disgusted Jace looked when he had kissed him. In that moment, he had assumed their friendship would be over. Even in his last effort to reconcile with his friend, they had ended up going to separate facilities. No doubt the work of Simon’s mother, who was also their lawyer. She hadn’t represented Jace, though. She blamed him for what happened. Jace had been stuck with the lawyer the city provided him. His father hadn’t even shown up for the court date. 

Alec thinks about Clary, and the conversations they had had when they watched  Madzie . About how much they both missed him. He had called her too, out of the blue. Simon had described Jace as sketchy the last time he spoke to him. Knowing him, he wasn’t the type of person who could just sit in prison for over thirty years with good behavior. He was impulsive. He always had been. It was one of the reasons they got along so well. 

Without thinking, Alec takes a sharp turn into a restaurant. The hostess sat him at the bar, barely paying him any mind. At first, he just orders a soft drink, trying to calm himself down. The wall was line with bottles of different types of liquor, each one catching his eye. He and Magnus never saw each other after his therapy sessions. He had always preferred to be alone in his room. They were too exhausting. 

On the television, someone turns on the hockey game, just starting. The bar had filled with much more patrons, wearing their Rangers jerseys and hats. As it started, the team started off losing, and the crowd had already turned hostile. Alec knew how passionate other New Yorkers could be about sports. Someone slaps his back, complaining about one of the players. Alec sheepishly hunches over in his seat, not looking at the T.V. Hesitantly, he gets the bartender’s attention and orders a couple of shots of whiskey. As the game drones on, the crowd starts to get too rowdy for him to keep up with. He leaves the cash on the counter, and stumbles out of the bar.

It was snowing outside, and Alec slips on the sidewalk, tumbling down. He catches himself on his hands and knees. His joints ached already at the cold temperature. After forcing himself up, slowly, he starts walking down the sidewalk again, toward the apartment. A car slowly turns in front of him, the headlights blinding him. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hits him, and he stumbles again, into an alleyway. He throws up next to a dumpster, heaving until there’s nothing left. Grabbing at his sore throat, Alec falls back onto the icy cement. He pulls out his phone, it was almost dead. For a minute he considers who to call. He knew if he tried to make it back to the apartment on foot, he would freeze. Taking a deep breath, he dials a number. 

“You know I should call your parole officer for this, right?” Dr. Garroway asks as they approach a stop light. He carefully brings the car to a stop, not wanting to slide into the intersection. “In fact, I’m obligated to.” Alec doesn’t answer, resting his pounding head on the window. He was wet from waiting in the snow. The therapist had draped his own coat over him. “Do you want to explain what happened? Because you don’t exactly strike me as a sports fan, and I felt like our session went well.” 

Alec licks the front of his teeth, cringing at the vial taste of vomit in his mouth. “I don’t know,” he croaks out, his throat still swollen. “All I remember is walking out of your office, and then...”

“Alexander.” 

The light turns green, and the car slides on the snow slightly. “I got a phone call.” 

“Okay, from who?” 

“Jace,” Alec admits. Dr. Garroway looks over at him, his eyebrows narrowing, before looking back at the road. 

“What did you talk about?” The therapist asks. 

“We didn’t. I froze. And he didn’t say anything.” 

“Well, did you want him to say anything?” Dr. Garroway asks. In the distance, Alec can see the apartment building coming into view. 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. They sit in silence as the man presses on the brakes gently, stopping the car in front of Alec’s building. It was surprising empty on the streets around them as the city got covered in a blanket of white. 

Sighing, Dr. Garroway unlocks the car door, and Alec steps out, careful not to slip. “I won’t call your parole officer,” the therapist says. “But only because I know you’re almost done with it, and I don’t think you could handle any added probation time... or worse. But you need to make a decision. If Jace calls you again... you’re going to have to decide if you want him in your life or not.” 

After thanking the doctor, Alec closes the door, and starts making his way up to the apartment. He was still unbalanced, earning a dirty look from some of his neighbors. That night, despite both Max and Maryse trying to talk to him through his door, he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to imagine a world where he didn’t exist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! planning on making a playlist for this when it's over, as each chapter is named after a song. With how crazy school is for me, I think the slightly shorter chapters will make for quicker updates.


	13. Triste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took longer than expected school was crazy!

The rest of November came and went. Alec hadn’t paid it much attention. He was too focused on the phone call he had gotten from Jace. Since that day, there hadn’t been anymore. But he thought about it every night. He thought about it lying in Magnus’s bed, early in the morning when the other man was still sleeping. He thought about it in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling, playing back so many moments from his past and wondering what he could have changed. The day that Jace’s father had walked in, what if he had stayed and didn’t let Jace take the beating? At all those parties, what if he had talked Jace out of drinking or smoking? Would they have even gotten into the harder drugs?

Alec looks over at his clock. It was only eight in the morning, but he could hear his brother and mother talking in the kitchen. In the last month, the fighting had slowly come to a stop. Max had enrolled in the community college near them, with the promise that he would tell the truth about how he was feeling. But Alec couldn’t help but notice the abundance of fast-food bags in the trash can on some days where he would barely see his brother. Forcing himself up, Alec walks over to his desk and takes the last edible of the stash Simon had given him. He knew it was bad, and that it could lead him to spiraling again. But he couldn’t resist the urge while they were there. 

After waiting a few minutes for it to hit him, Alec feels his body relax, and his mind becomes fuzzy. He wanders out into the hallway, in search of a warm drink to help his body adjust to the snow outside. His mother and Max look at him from where they sit, both with mugs in their hands. Alec gives them a half-smile and heads to the coffee machine, his back to them. He could feel their eyes on him. 

“You’re up early,” Maryse says. She had stopped dying her hair recently, letting the grey slowly take over. It mixed with her natural color, creating a salt-and-pepper effect. Alec had noticed the wrinkles around her eyes were worse. He couldn’t tell if it was from the stress of the divorce, or her two sons who just couldn’t seem to get their act together. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I never went to sleep,” Alec says, turning around to face them. “I got home kind of late and just... couldn’t, I guess. One of those nights.” 

“Is everything okay?” Maryse asks. “I know how hard it can be to sleep when you have something on your mind.”

“I’m fine,” Alec says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not any more emotionally unstable than I usually am.” 

“That’s... good?” Maryse says. “Your father wants you and Max to visit him this afternoon.” Alec rolls his eyes at the statement, leaning against the counter. Since Robert had been sentenced to house arrest and community service, he hadn’t talked to him. It felt unfair. Alec had to go to a federal prison for years while his father gets a slap on the wrist. “Alec, please, he’s-”

“An asshole,” Alec interrupts.

“And still your father,” Maryse says. “I know how you feel about him, but I don’t think you should lose him this way. Both of you. And Isabelle, if she were here.” 

“Oh, Isabelle will be fine,” Max says. “She’s daddy’s little girl. They probably talk all the time.” 

“You don’t know that,” Maryse says. “I know Robert can be... hard to deal with. Especially during his... sentence. But you should keep a relationship. Boys need their fathers.” 

“We aren’t boys anymore, Mom,” Alec says. “If we don’t want to talk to him, we shouldn’t have to. And you can make us.” 

“Alexander-” 

“I’m not talking to him. His... rules ruined my life,” Alec says. “He’s judgmental. And selfish.”

“While I do not doubt that our parenting played a large role in what your life has been like so far, Alexander, you know that it is unfair to blame us for every choice you have made,” Maryse says, her tone stern. “All I am asking is that you try to mend your relationship. Both of you.” 

“Because he’s in the hole,” Max says, smirking. “He had a damn good lawyer. Too bad it cost basically all of our savings.”

Maryse gets up, pushing her stool out with more force than she needed to. “Boys...” she sighs. “I know that we can’t live the way we used to. And Max... I’ve already admitted that I am grateful you have dropped out of Stanford, to save us money. But please tell me you see your father as more than a dollar sign.” 

“It would be easier if we actually knew him,” Max says. “Eighteen years and I barely know who he is, Mom.”

“Well, you are not the most... sharing person, either,” Maryse says. Max shrugs, looking down at his cup. “After pulling some strings, your father has talked the parole board into letting him come here for Christmas.” Alec laughs after finishing off his coffee. Maryse gives him a side eye. “Care to share?” 

Alec looks at Max, amused. “I just can’t wait to see Dad wearing an ankle monitor,” he says. Max laughs, and they high-five, the clap echoing in the kitchen. Maryse pauses for a moment, glaring at them, before shaking her head and bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“It’s not as good as Camille in her jump suit,” Max says, opening his phone. He pulls up a picture of the woman with her hands cuffed behind her back, taken by the press. She was sitting in the window of the correctional facility, playing chess with another inmate. One of the perks of being that rich. She didn’t have to go to a real prison. Easily distracted, Max clicks on one of his social media apps and scrolls down, looking at the pictures. He sighs and puts the phone down before burying his face in his hands. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Maryse asks, reaching out to her youngest. “Max.” 

“Nothing,” Max says, looking back up. “It’s just... most of my friends are back from school for winter break. And I’m...” he trails off, glancing at Alec. “Never mind.”

“It’s fine,” Alec says. He walks around the counter, placing his hand on Max’s shoulder. They walk to the couch and sit next to each other while their mother cleans the kitchen. “You don’t have to walk on egg shells around me, you know.” 

“I should,” Max says. “Look, I know that you’re... coping... or whatever. But I can tell when something bothers you.” 

“Your friends are getting back from winter break, from their expensive schools, and you’re getting ready to go to community college. It feels like you aren’t... amounting to enough.” Max shrugs, leaning back on the cushion. “You know... in middle school, there was this kid who was giving me a hard time. I was so... skinny... and nerdy. I told Mom about it, and she said that he was going to peak in high school, and that I was just going to have to wait because my time would be later in life. I was going to go to a top-rated school, and go into business. And I was going to marry the perfect girl...” he laughs to himself for a moment. “Now that kid... works at a law firm. And he’s engaged, and he’s going to inherit his father’s money. And I’m... a felon, with-” 

“Alec, stop,” Max says. “Just...” 

“I’m trying to tell you that you could do worse,” Alec says. “Forget your friends. If they don’t support what you’re doing now, then they aren’t you friends.” 

“You sound like my therapist,” Max says. Alec rolls his eyes. “In a good way. This is cheesy, I know, but... I miss us. The three of us. I know you and Izzy don’t really get along, but...” 

“You don’t understand,” Alec says. “You were too young when everything happened. And our relationship was sort of... non-existent, I guess. But Isabelle and I were close. And I... lied to her.” 

“You lied to everyone.” 

“But Isabelle was the closest person in our family to the truth,” Alec says. “We shared the same friends. We all lied to her. It’s going to take time to mend that wound.” 

“She’s so hard on you.” 

“She always had been hard on me,” Alec says. “Even when we were kids. There were so many times that I wanted to mess around at parties, and she held me back. In high school she knew that Jace was bad news. But I didn’t listen to her.” 

“Do you wish you would have?” Max asks.

“No,” Alec says. “I don’t know... maybe. But it’s hard to think about.” He felt his body becoming sluggish as the edible was finally hitting him. The conversation slows to a lull, and he lies back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Maryse walks past him on her way out, giving him a concerned look. 

_ Alec felt his hands shaking at his sides, his bones aching in the cold air. Late February usually meant New York would be stacked with snow, but luckily it had been a dry winter. Around him, the other men talked amongst themselves. Some lifted weights at the end of the yard. His eye was swollen shut, throbbing, but he couldn’t focus on the pain. It had been days since he slept. His bunkmates were noisy, and throughout the day he felt eyes on him. It had only been a few weeks, but he was still getting a hard time from other inmates. An older man he worked with cleaning the bathrooms had told him that it would get better, eventually. That Alec was so easy to push around because of his age. He wasn’t from a rough background. He was just a junkie, so he wasn’t a threat. _

_ From the corner of his eye, he sees someone approaching. At first, he backs up, cautious. Through what vision he had left in his swollen eye, he sees a head of shaggy blond hair, and his heart starts pounding. For a moment he was sure it was Jace. Somehow, his efforts were worth it. “Hey,” the man says, coming into Alec’s vision. It was someone he had never seen before. They were a few years older than him, with a soft, welcoming face. “Mind if I stand with you?” Alec doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the other inmate. “Hello? Is anyone in there? I’m not here to mess with you. It seems like someone else already took care of that,” the man gestures to his eye.  _

_ With a sigh, Alec relaxes, leaning against the brick wall. “Sure,” he says, looking back out to the yard.  _

_ “You don’t seem very talkative,” the man says. Alec shrugs. “You’re new. I haven’t seen you before. I’m Sebastian,” he holds out his hand. Hesitantly, Alec takes it, and they shake. “And you?”  _

_ “Uh... Alexander.”  _

_ “Alex, huh,” Sebastian says, smirking. “What happened to, uh, you know...?”  _

_ “Alec for short. Not Alex,” Alec rubs his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “I’m not really sure. A couple people were arguing next to me in the cafeteria, and they started fighting. I was just caught in the  _ _ crossfire _ _ I guess.”  _

_ “Happens to the best of us,” Sebastian says. “I try to steer clear of groups in here. Anyone with a lot of tattoos... especially matching ones... are bad news for guys like us.”  _

_ Alec looks over at him. He watches Sebastian take a deep breath, before the cloud disappears in the cold air. “Guys like us?” He asks, getting nervous.  _

_ “I mean, I’ve been in here for a couple years already, so I know the ropes,” Sebastian says. “But you? It’s pretty obvious you’re out of your element.” Alec crosses his arms, trying to close himself off. He had told himself that for the next six years he wouldn’t talk to anyone. He deserved to wallow in his self-pity and pay for what he did. “You’re too proper. You stand with your shoulders nice and back. Your back is stiff, but it’s not just because you’re scared. You were told to stand that way, probably since childhood. I’m sure you call home every day, because you can afford it. And I bet your commissary funds are pretty good too. You’re high-end.” _

_ Hesitantly, Alec slouches forward, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Sebastian laughs, resting his hand on Alec’s shoulder reassuringly. Alec flinches at the motion, pulling away. “Why did you come over here?” He asks.  _

_ “Because you look like you need a friend,” Sebastian says. “I do too, to be honest. My last... acquaintance and I are sort of on bad terms. With me trying this whole... sobriety thing and all.” Alec bites his lip, tasting the dry skin from how chapped it was. “Now I’ll ask the question that’s on both of our minds, I suppose. What are you in for?” Alec shakes his head, looking away. “Oh, come on. No one around really cares. Unless you touched some kids, then they’ll bash your-” _

_ “Nothing like that,” Alec snaps, looking back over at the other man, feeling his cheeks turn red.  _

_ “Okay, okay,” Sebastian puts his hands up in defense. “It was just a joke done in poor taste.” Alec relaxes, taking another step back. “It must have something to do with drugs. I can tell from how twitchy you are. You haven’t been clean for long.”  _

_ Alec frowns, and realizes he was tapping his foot on the concrete anxiously. He makes himself stop, then sighs. “Aggravated assault,” he says, his voice quiet and monotone.  _

_ Sebastian raises his eyebrows, stepping back. “So, there is some aggression in there,” he says smirking. “What’d you get? A year? Two maybe? Must have been pretty bad if they put you in the slammer.”  _

_ “Six,” Alec says.  _

_ “Shit. So, that’s not the whole story.”  _

_ “I don’t want to talk about it.”  _

_ “Yet,” Sebastian says. “Fine, fine. But you would be surprised just how much you’re willing to share with a total stranger when you literally have nothing else to do. For example, I myself am a mass murderer. As in, I killed an entire family. It was an accident, of course, but you wouldn’t believe the sentence that got me. I-” _

_ “Shut up,” Alec says. One of the guards blows his whistle, calling for the end of their outside time. “Don’t... joke about that.”  _

_ “It’s true,” Sebastian says. “Drunk driving.” Alec looks at him one last time, before walking forward to join the rest of the group. Sebastian follows closely behind. “Man, what I would give for a cigarette right now.”  _

_ “Don’t talk to me,” Alec says as they stand against the wall, their backs facing the  _ _ gaurds _ _ , who come by to feel their pockets. _

_ “Fine, I’ll stop,” Sebastian whispers. “But when you realize you need someone to talk to, come find me. It’s amazing how lonely you can feel while in a sea of other people.”  _

Alec stands against the wall of Magnus’s apartment, sighing as the other man’s hands traveled down his back, over the jacket of his suit. “Don’t we need to leave,” he mutters. Magnus groans against his chest, his hands stopping. “Magnus.” 

“Yes,” Magnus says, his voice muffled. “As much as I don’t want to attend, I haven’t missed one of Catarina’s Christmas parties in years.” He pulls away and cups Alec’s face. “We’ll just make an appearance, I suppose. I know how you feel about social gatherings.” 

“Magnus, it’s okay,” Alec says. “I have no problem standing against the wall the whole time.” 

“I just don’t want to force you to-” 

“It’s fine,” Alec says, his hand travelling to the doorknob. He opens the door and pulls away from the other man, and they descend down the hallway. “Besides, she invited both of us, right?” 

“I suppose we are at the point where we’re being considered an item,” Magnus says as they reach the elevator. The doors open and they step inside. “That is... if you don’t mind.” Alec shrugs. “I could tell her to-”

“I’ve never been one before,” Alec says. “An item. I’ve always...” he trails off, looking down at his converse. He could feel a part of his sock touching the ground through a hole in the rubber. “I haven’t really had the chance to be in a relationship. Fully, anyway.” 

Magnus slides his hand into Alec’s and squeezes his palm. “One step at a time,” he says, his voice low. “It’s just a Christmas party with a bunch of snooty New York artists. I’m sure we will get through it.” 

Catarina’s loft was covered in fairy lights, changing colors between a pale yellow and a bright red that reminded Alec of a traffic light. There were multiple trees set up, covered in ornaments, and stacks of presents that Alec guessed were fake. When he and Magnus arrived, it was already crowded with people dressed in high end clothing. Alec could tell they were a creative crowd with some of the head pieces and makeup. He and Magnus walked past a man wearing a dress with the most rhinestones he had ever seen. As they make eye contact, he notices blended eyeshadow and glitter on the man’s face and beard. Alec clenches his jaw and keeps walking, Magnus pulling him through the crowd.

“Of course, when the original work was commissioned, I didn’t see myself expanding on the project any more than what I was paid for,” Catarina says to a couple, each of them holding champagne flutes. “But after I created the original work, I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I changed my medium to charcoal because it just felt... right. I enjoy the messiness of it, and- Magnus!” She stops when she sees them, and pulls Magnus into a tight hug. Her champagne spills at their feet. “I was afraid you weren’t going to come.” 

“Just fashionably late,” Magnus says as they pull away from each other. To his surprise, Catarina pulls Alec into a hug too, squeezing his shoulders tight. He could smell more than champagne on her breath. 

“We were just talking about my newest exhibition that I’ll be putting on through the school,” Catarina says. “Your school, actually! NYU wants me to work with some students for a show in the spring.” 

“Oh, how great,” Magnus says. He turns to the couple Catarina was talking to, and they get into a conversation about the project while Alec stands, trying his best to listen. But around them he finds himself getting distracted by other partygoers. His eyes scan the room, stopping on a familiar figure. 

“I’ll be right back,” Alec says into Magnus’s ear. Magnus nods, and Alec files through the crowd until he reaches the edge of the party near the bar. “Clary?” 

“Alec?” Clary asks, her eyes widening. She was dressed modestly, most of her body covered by an oversized shawl covered in an intricately stitched pattern. “What are you doing here?” She asks, hugging him.

“Magnus brought me,” Alec says. “I’m his plus one I guess.” 

“You guys seem to be getting pretty serious,” Clary says, smiling. “Catarina invited me. I’m going to be working with her at NYU in the spring.” 

“Oh... uh, congratulations,” Alec says. Another woman walks up to them carrying two glasses of wine. Alec had never seen her before, but he could tell she fit in with the crowd with how bright her dress was and the wavy eyeliner that lined her eyes, leading up to her eyebrows. 

“Thanks, Dot,” Clary says, taking one of the glasses. “This is an old friend,” she says to the other woman.

“Dorothea Rollins,” the woman says, holding out her hand. Alec shakes it, surprised at the firm grip. “My friends call me Dot. Are you one of Catarina’s students? You seem kind of young to be one of her friends,” she laughs at her own joke. 

“No, I’m here with someone,” Alec says.

“Are you thirsty?” Dot asks. “I’m friends with the bartender, I can get you something good. Cat actually has the nicest wines, but only for her closest guests.” 

“I’m fine,” Alec says, although he does feel the inclination to drink to make the party go by faster. He had assumed he would be waiting alone for Magnus instead of talking to anyone. 

“Suit yourself,” Dot says, leaning against the wall. Her, Clary and Alec talk for a while, about small things. Artists who Alec didn’t know. Their holiday plans. After a while, Alec relaxes and starts talking more in the conversation.

“I could use a refill,” Clary says, holding up her empty wine glass. 

“Why don’t we take this to the bar,” Dot says. Hesitantly, Alec follows, watching as Dot smooth talks the bartender. Whatever she says to him works, because he asks for Alec’s ID before making him a drink. As he slides it across the counter, Dot glances at it and laughs. “A subway  pass ? Yet another helpless New Yorker who can’t drive.” Alec shrugs and takes his rum and coke from the counter, sipping it slowly. He tasted more of the soda than the alcohol.

“I doubt anyone at this party can drive, Dot,” Clary says. “Except you.” 

“I am a California girl at heart,” Dot says. She stops on their way back to where they were standing before, looking Alec up and down. “Now I know where I’ve seen you before,” she says, smirking. “I know Clary through Cat, but I thought I had seen you before. I just couldn’t figure it out. But you’re Alexander Lightwood, the son of Robert Lightwood.” Alec bites his lip and tightens his grip on his drink. “You know, we followed his case on the news. I hope you aren’t here to pretend to buy Catarina’s artwork for a good cause and pocket it? It seems like it would be low even for him to send his son to do his dirty work.” 

“I...” Alec starts. “I didn’t know he was doing that,” if he was being honest with himself, Alec had barely followed his father’s case. He had been too wrapped up in his own issues. 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Dot says. “Besides, you don’t really seem the criminal type.” Alec sighs and takes another sip of his drinking, closing his eyes. Clary looks down at her drink, watching the bubbles. “You’re dating Magnus Bane,” Dot says. Alec nods, feeling his cheeks turn red. “Catarina told me. It seems to be going well if he brought you to this party.” 

“You know him?” Alec asks. He takes another sip of his drink, only for the ice to slide down and hit his nose. He hadn’t realized how quickly he had been consuming it.

Dot scoffs and narrows her eyebrows. “ Of course Magnus wouldn’t bother mentioning me,” she says. “That’s expected. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.”

“I don’t...” Alec starts. “I should go find-” 

“We dated,” Dot interrupts. “For a year. During his first year at NYU. I know it’s not very mature of me to still be so... hung up on him. But I’m sort of drunk, and it would be very entertaining to me to ask... has he cheated on you yet?” Alec’s eyes widen, and he nearly chokes on the ice in his mouth. Dot laughs. “Wow, he really has kept you in the dark. I guess talking about past relationships isn’t really good for the first few months or so.”

“Dot,” Clary starts. “You shouldn’t-” 

“He deserves to know, Clary,” Dot says. “Magnus is charming, and intelligent. He’s compassionate. And he’s very... attentive in bed,” she smirks, and Alec feels his chest get tight. “But he has so many issues stewing beneath the surface, that he can’t help but push away anyone who wants him. I was in love with the man at one point. I thought it was going well. And then on the day of our anniversary I walked in on him and  _ two  _ people in the living room. He hadn’t even had the decency to close the curtains.” 

“I should go,” Alec mutters. “I told Magnus I would be back, and-” 

“I’m talking too much,” Dot says. “The alcohol. But... I’m just warning you, Alexander Lightwood. Don’t be surprised when he breaks your heart. Magnus is never the one who gets his heartbroken. He’s too scared of a real relationship for that.” Before she can continue, Alec walks back to the bar, ordering a couple shots. The bartender gawks as he quickly swallows the whiskey, slamming the glasses on the counter. He works his way through the crowd, finding Magnus where he left him. 

“Alec,” Magnus says. Alec doesn’t answer, standing next to him. He rests his forehead on Magnus’s shoulder, feeling his sweat stain the suit jacket. For a moment they stand like that while Magnus finishes his conversation with Catarina. “Alec?” Alec doesn’t answer, instead trying to lose himself in the smell of Magnus’s cologne. “I can smell the liquor on your breath. You know you aren’t supposed to be drinking. I shouldn’t have taken you with-” 

“Let’s just go,” Alec mutters, lifting his head back up. Magnus shrugs, and the two men shuffle through the crowd, leaving the large crowd behind them. They don’t say anything to each other until they get back to Magnus’s apartment. Alec watches as Magnus makes two cups of tea, the kitchen light dim. 

“I can tell there’s something on your mind,” Magnus says, placing the steaming mug in front of Alec. “Something different than usual.” 

Alec tips the hot beverage, his tongue burning. He sighs, and looks up at the other man from his chair. “Who’s Dorothea Rollins?” 

Magnus rolls his eyes and leans against the counter. “I figured she would be there,” he mutters. “Dorothea... Dot... is one of my exes. She’s a nice person, and a great artist. But she and I  separated on... not the best terms.” 

“She told me you cheated on her with two people,” Alec says.

“She wasn’t lying, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Magnus says. “But... you don’t need to worry about it, Alec. It was my mistake. And it was years ago. Dot just still holds a grudge about it.” 

“I want to know the truth,” Alec says. “About who you’ve dated.” 

“Alec, it’s not-” 

“Should I be scared?” Alec asks. 

“What are you talking about?” Magnus asks, raising his voice. “Alec, I’m not  _ cheating  _ on you, if that’s what you’re implying.” Alec opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t say anything. “You don’t really think that, do you?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “But Dot looked pretty torn up about it, and-”

“Forget about Dot,” Magnus snaps. “Look, I cheated on Dot. More than once, because I was... I was lost. I’ve always felt lost, and it was easy to use someone else’s body as a way to feel grounded, even for just an hour. I treated Dot badly. She’s not the first person who I’ve been unfaithful to. I haven’t always been a good partner. I know that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Magnus, I didn’t-” 

“Clearly that is what is bothering you,” Magnus says. “Alec... I...”

“Thanks for the tea,” Alec says, placing the half empty mug onto the counter. “I should go.”

“Alec, it’s late,” Magnus says. “You should stay the night.” 

“No,” Alec says, picking his coat up off the arm of the couch behind him. “I just... I need some space.” 

“Seriously?” Magnus complains, walking over to the other man. “One of my sour exes talks to you at a party, and suddenly you’re that wary of me? I’ve had partners be uncomfortable about my bisexuality before, and I don’t need you to be like one of them. I’m just some whore, who-” 

“I don’t care about your sexuality, Magnus,” Alec says, raising his voice to match the volume of the other mans. “I just... I need to be alone for tonight, okay? Sometimes I just need to... be alone with myself.” 

“And Dot has nothing to do with this sudden change of heart?” Alec hesitates, before turning toward the door. “Alexander-”

“She does a little bit.” 

“You can’t be-” 

“Relax, Magnus,” Alec says, his hand on the doorknob. “I just need some space. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Magnus doesn’t say anything, he just watches as Alec opens the door and disappears down the hallway. 

_ Alec walks up to the front of the class slowly, trying to ignore the growing pain in his head. His senior year was going by slowly, and each day felt like a new chore. The only thing keeping him grounded was the time he spent with Simon and Jace. But he didn’t know if it was because they were his best friends, or if it was because when they were together, they would get high. Alec knew that the heroin was bad for him, but he didn’t care, as long as it meant being able to forget who he was for a few hours. His parents and sister were starting to question him. He disappeared from the apartment frequently, but now he came back too exhausted to even sit on the couch and watch a movie with Isabelle. His skin was worse than it had ever been, pale as a sheet and covered with acne. Sometimes he would go days without showering, his mind too focused on the next time he was getting high.  _

_ Simon hadn’t been faring well either. His skin was even worse than Alec’s, and he had developed a permanent leg twitch whenever they weren’t getting high. His mother was on his case all the time, suspicious even of Alec. If she reached out to Alec’s parents he didn’t know, they hadn’t mentioned anything. Instead, they only gave him suspicious looks every morning before school. _

_ “You need to be careful, Mr. Lightwood,” the teacher says as Alec hands him his test. A couple of the other students snicker at him. “If this one is another fail, then you might be looking at summer school.” Alec shrugs, but before he can walk back the teacher gently rests his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Have you been feeling okay? These past few months you haven’t seemed like yourself.”  _

_ “I’m fine, thanks,” Alec answers, walking back to his desk. Lydia meets his gaze for a moment before she looks away, her eyes focusing on her pencil. He sighs and sits back in his desk while the rest of the class finish their quizzes. He pulls out his phone, and starts reading back text messages from Jace. He and Clary had broken up for the third time. Maybe he was being delusional, but Alec was finding it harder and harder to keep his feelings a secret. Underhill had warned him that confessing his love for his straight friend wasn’t a good idea, but he was getting tired of hiding who he was. But then he wondered if he even knew himself at all.  _

Alec winces as Maia’s hand moves over his collarbone, the needle creating a sharp pain over his skin. That morning he had paced around the apartment, unsure of how his date with Magnus would go later. Since their fight they had texted, but it was sparce. “Do you need a break?” Maia asks. “We’ll still be here for at least six hours.” 

“No,” Alec says. “I’m fine.” He closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on the pain. He knew that getting a chest piece would hurt, but he wasn’t anticipating it hurting this much.

“Whatever you say,” Maia says, pulling away to dip her needle back in the ink. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? I know it can be hard when the support group disbands for the holidays.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says, biting his lip. He takes a deep breath as she applies the needle again. “I think Magnus and I got into our first fight.” 

“The honeymoon phase is over,” Maia responds. “That’s good.” 

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Alec says. “I feel bad. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset just because he cheated on someone.” 

“I think it’s worth being concerned about,” Maia says. “It also means you care about your relationship. That’s a good sign, Alec.” 

“I’m not sure I want a good sign,” Alec says. “I...” he trails off as the pain gets worse. “What if I mess everything up and Magnus dumps me? I’m so... I’m more dependent on him than I thought. What if I was in over my head when I let myself start a relationship with him?”

“I’m not the best person to be giving relationship advice,” Maia says. “But you do seem pretty torn up over it. And Magnus is a good guy. I don’t think he’s thinking of cheating on you any time soon.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” Alec says. “I’ve never really been a relationship person.” 

“You’ve never been in a relationship before, Alec. Those mean different things. You can’t blame yourself for feeling self-conscious about his past relationships. Simon is concerned about the same thing with me. He thinks just because I’ve had a few boyfriends he has to measure up somehow. You’re both similar in that way.”

“In what way?”

“You both have a low self-esteem that you let get the best of you, and a relationship makes you even more vulnerable. But you do deserve love, you know. We all do.” 

“I don’t- oh, fuck,-” Alec groans, and Maia pulls away. 

“We’re taking a break.” 

Later that night, Alec finds himself lying face up on the couch in Magnus’s apartment, his shirt discarded as Magnus gently applies the ointment that Maia gave him to his chest. On the TV they were watching a documentary that  Ragnor had been interviewed for in London. He only had one appearance, but that didn’t stop Magnus from making fun of him. Despite already hanging out for a couple hours, they hadn’t talked much. Alec had considered walking out and never talking to the other man again several times since walking in. He didn’t want to add any stress to Magnus’s life. 

“I should be honest with you,” Magnus says, breaking the silence between them. “Until we started dating, I don’t think I’ve gone more than a month without hooking up with someone since I was sixteen. I haven’t had many serious relationships. I cheated on Dot, but not because I couldn’t help myself. I just... I felt like I wasn’t enough for her. I sabotaged it on purpose.”

Alec reaches down and grabs Magnus’s hand, holding it in his own. “I’m sorry I let her get to me,” he says. “I don’t even know her. I shouldn’t have-” 

“Don’t apologize, Alexander,” Magnus says. “We’ve never discussed our dating history, maybe it’s time we should. I’ll answer any questions you have.” 

“I don’t have any questions,” Alec says. He shifts, sitting up against the side of the couch. “I trust you. It’s not you I’m worried about, Magnus. It’s me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough to be with you. I let Dot get into my head.”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, smiling at him. “If I had known that’s how you were feeling I would have never let you walk out of here the other night. You shouldn’t think so low of yourself.” 

“I can’t help it,” Alec says. “I... Sometimes, I...” he trails off. No matter how much he wanted to say what he was feeling, he couldn’t bring himself to put it on Magnus. He knew that Magnus cared for him, but he only knew the Alec everyone else knew. Not the person who was brewing inside of him, begging to get out. The person who knew who he really was.

“When I was younger, before she died, my mother would get into what she called  _ moods,”  _ Magnus says. He looks past Alec, out the window, to the city. His gaze became distant, as if he was somewhere else entirely. “She was always so... bubbly. She would laugh with me, and play games with me for hours. My father was just a distant memory to her. I never knew him, and she never talked about him. And life was good, as good as my innocent mind could see it. But then one day, I would wake up, and she would be lying in her bed, in the dark. If I turned on the lamp, she would yell at me to get out, and not speak to her. By the time she woke up, she would ignore me. Sometimes she would just stare at the wall and not eat for days. And then, every time, she would leave me at the neighbors for a week and not call. And when she got back, she would hug me as if nothing happened. I didn’t realize it at the time. I was too young to, although I still beat myself up over it. The smile was fake the whole time. She was just putting on a front to make me happy, or to avoid talking to me. I’ll never know the answer.” Alec doesn’t say anything, he just waits for the other man to look at him again. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is... I can see you more clearly than you may realize, Alec. I see your insecurity. The only reason I got so upset the other night is because I’m insecure as well.” 

“Magnus...” Alec says. “I...” 

“You don’t want to talk now,” Magnus says. “I can tell. This is a lot for me to thrust onto you, but...”

“No, it’s fine, Magnus. It’s... good.” 

“Good?” 

“It’s good,” Alec says. “It’s...” he thinks back to his long conversation with Maia earlier in the day.  _ You do deserve love.  _ “ G ood. Our relationship. We’re good.” 

Magnus narrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Good.” He smiles at Alec, who returns the favor. 

“Good.” 

The next couple of weeks went by uneventfully. Magnus was out of town in Europe with Catarina and Madzie, a trip they had planned before he and Alec got together. Their gift exchange was simple. Magnus got Alec a new coat to replace his old one, and Alec had gotten Magnus a new lamp for his office. Without having the other man’s apartment to escape to, Alec had found himself staying home with his mother while she needlessly obsessed over Christmas decorations. Every year they hosted a Christmas Eve party with their friend group. 

“Maxwell, fix the tinsel on that side of the living room,” Maryse says from over her shoulder as she finishes placing the food on the table.

“It’s fine, Mom,” Max complains, not bothering to look up from his phone. 

“Maxwell, now.” Groaning, Max gets up to fix the decorations. “Alexander, I can see you stealing sips of champagne. Go help your sister finish cleaning the bathroom.” 

Sighing, Alec walks out of the kitchen and down the hall. He finds Isabelle sitting on the bathroom counter on her phone, her fingers quickly dashing across the touch screen keyboard. Her makeup was still scattered across the counter next to her, and the trash can was full. He could see hair stuck to the wall of the shower. Since they had lost money through their father’s investigation, they couldn’t afford a housekeeper anymore, and Max and Alec were in a competition to see who could go longer without cleaning the bathroom. “Nice work,” Alec says, picking up a hairspray bottle and placing it in the cabinet below the sink. 

“There’s no point anyway,” Isabelle says, looking up. 

“Mom is going to kill us if anyone sees this,” Alec says. 

“No one’s going to see it, Big Brother,” Isabelle says. “Because no one is coming to this thing.” Alec looks at his sister quizzically. “Mom invited a bunch of people from the old office. The same office that Dad screwed over very publicly.” 

“Then why did she decorate so much? And order so much food?” Alec asks.

“Because micromanaging is her coping mechanism,” Isabelle says. “The first month you were in prison she freaked out over a single speck of dust in this place. She’s just going through the motions to make her feel better. And to show Dad that she’s better off without him.” Alec winces at the mention of his father, who had been permitted to visiting his family for two nights. “You’re smart, I thought you would have figured it out by now.” 

Alec shrugs. “So... what, we’re just supposed to pretend like nothing happened?”

“At least we won’t have to deal with any of the disapproving stares of people wondering if we were in on the scheme. And I’ll get to see  Meliorn sooner than I thought.” 

Forty-five minutes after the part was supposed to start, Maryse and her three children sit at the table, several large plates of food in front of them. Alec looks around at the dozen plates he had to set up, specifically with the fork on the left, only for them not to be used. He picks at his food, washing as the cranberry sauce stained the plate. Max clears his throat, earning a look from Isabelle, who silently eats her food. Maryse stares at the clock, her plate untouched. 

“How long are we going to wait for?” Max asks.

“However long it takes,” Maryse says, not tearing her eyes away. 

“Can I at least change? This sweater is itchy.” 

“It’s your only Christmas sweater. You’re wearing it.” 

“We aren’t even religious,” Max complains. 

“The point of Christmas is coming together,” Maryse says. “And here we are. Together.” 

“We can be together in t-shirts and-” 

“Maxwell,” Maryse says, her eyes snapping to her youngest son. “If you do not stop complaining right now, you will be the only one cleaning this apartment when we are done. Do you understand?” Before Max could answer, their attention was drawn to the front door. The door knob jiggled, and the sound of keys could be heard in the hallway. After a minute, the doorbell rang, and Maryse walked over to answer it. “Robert,” she says, letting the man in. 

“Maryse,” Robert says, his eyes falling on the empty table. “I see you’ve changed the locks.” 

“Oh, you know, just a maintenance thing. It would be a shame if an unwanted guest were to break in, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Robert answers. He slips off his peacoat and hangs it up beside the door. “But that would suggest there were items worth stealing in this place, wouldn’t it?” Maryse laughs, forcibly, and guides her ex-husband to the table. As he sits down Alec’s eyes meet with Max, and he watches as his younger brother mouths two words.  _ Kill me.  _

The rest of dinner was silent, aside from the occasional beeping of Robert’s ankle monitor. Each time it made a noise Alec couldn’t help but stiffen a giggle with his wine. There were three other empty glasses in front of him, and he knew it was bothering his family but he couldn’t help it. It was certainly better than the balsamic reduction his mother had attempted at making. “Well, I suppose we should open presents while your father is here, shouldn’t we?” 

“I wouldn’t want to miss it,” Robert says as they all move to the living room. The tree was over decorated, almost every branch holding an ornament. Most were new, glass decorations of deer and angels. “I don’t know what to get you kids these days for anything. Now you just go and buy it, you know. So, just act surprised when you open it.”

Max goes first, tearing open the wrapping paper to reveal a sweatshirt adorned with the Stanford logo. “I don’t go there anymore, Dad,” Max says. 

“I know, you mother told me,” Robert says. “But when you’re ready to go back, you’ll be ready to show your school pride. And if not Stanford, then maybe Yale, or Northwestern. You know, your great grandfather went to Harvard. You could keep it in the family.” 

“You’ve told me that like a thousand times, Dad,” Max says. Before he can continue, Maryse holds up her hand and passes a gift to Isabelle.

Slowly Isabelle opens the envelope, revealing a gift card for a designer store. “Oh, um... thank you. I’ll use this.” 

“I knew you would,” Robert says. Without saying a word, Alec opens his gift, eager to get to the end of the party. He slides off the ripped paper, revealing a package of several Shakespeare plays. Some he had read in high school, but he barely remembered them.

“Uh... thanks,” Alec says, looking over at his father.

“They’re more than just books, Alexander,” Robert says. “Last year, before you got out, I read this great book by Laura Bates, telling this amazing story of how she helped a young incarcerated man by tutoring him on Shakespeare for ten years. And it completely saved his life. I was hoping it would do you the same service.” 

“I... what?” Alec questions. “I’m not even in prison anymore, I-” 

“I know, son, but that doesn't mean you’re healed. I’m just trying to help you. Now that I know what the justice system is like first hand, I feel like I know you better than I did before. I want-” 

“No, you don’t,” Alec interrupts. “Dad, I have a GED. I don’t read Shakespeare for fun.” 

“But you used to,” Robert says. “When you were a teenager your head was always  buried in a book. I’m sure you still love to read.” 

“That’s just because I liked fantasy books when I was thirteen,” Alec says. “I barely even did my homework in high school, much less-”

“Alexander, please,” Maryse interrupts. “It’s a holiday. We’re supposed to be gathered as a family.” 

“This is about more than books, mother,” Alec snaps, raising his voice. “It’s been twenty-five years and you don’t know a single real thing about me,” he says, staring down his father from across the couch. 

Robert stares back, his gaze dark. “Alexander, I am trying to do a nice thing for you. Your mother and I have watched countless documentaries on the prison system. We know how hard it was for you. I’m trying to give you an outlet.” 

“It’s almost been a year since I got out,” Alec yells. “And in that year, all you’ve done is criticize me. You lost most of our money because you were cheating on mom with a she-devil. And after she posted  _ porn  _ of me on the internet it still took you getting arrested to finally break it off with her.” 

“Camille Belcourt is the worst decision I have ever made, and I am still atoning for it-”

“By what? Sitting in your lavish apartment with that stupid ankle monitor on because you’re lucky enough to be rich and white? You stole millions of dollars, and they slapped you on the wrist. You don’t know the first thing about what it’s really like to go through the ‘justice system,’” Alec does air quotes and stands up.

“Alexander, we can discuss this another time,” Maryse pleads. 

“When? The next time Dad gets clearance to come see us?” Max asks. Isabelle’s face is red, and she stares wide eyed at her brother. 

“Maxwell-” 

“No, Maryse. I want to hear this,” Robert says, standing up to meet eye to eye with his eldest son. “This is good. You’ve finally grown some balls.” Alec clenches his fists, feeling his chest starting to ache with anger. “It’s about time. You’ve always been so fragile, Alexander. It’s not in the Lightwood bloodline.” 

“Fragile?” Alec repeats.

“If you weren’t so... emotional... then you would have never gone down the path you did,” Robert says. “You would have been stronger to resist the temptations of addiction.” 

“You think I’m fragile?” Alec asks. “I survived six years in a facility where people killed each other. I saw someone get stabbed in the yard when I was nineteen and had to help clean the blood off the concrete. When I needed to, I had to fight back, and when I did the guards beat me so badly that my ears would ring for a week. I figured out how to keep myself safe by doing things you would never understand. I survived solitary confinement because I starved myself enough to scare the warden. And I did all of it alone. You don’t know who I am. And you never will.” 

Robert clenches his jaw and takes a step toward his son. “Do you really think that telling me any of this will change anything? You haven’t won this argument. I know why you did... whatever you did. It’s the same reason you let that poor man die and got yourself thrown into prison in the first place. You’re a coward.” 

Before Alec realizes it, he’s on the floor. His vision is blurry, and he can’t hear anything. For a moment he doesn’t feel anything aside from an aching in his hands. He closes his eyes, and everything goes black. When he opens them again, he’s looking down at his father, his face stained a dark red. Alec swings his arm back, punching him again and again, ignoring the screams from his siblings and mother. With his other hand, Alec grabs onto Robert’s dress shirt, forcing his head up from the floor. He reels back his arm, holding his fist next to his own face. Just as he gets ready to punch the man again, he feels hands under his armpits pulling him back. He gets dragged to the balcony door, his back pushed against the cold glass. 

Hazy, he watches as his mother scrambles to hold up his father, his head in her lap. There are several crumpled-up napkins scattering the floor around her. Alec starts counting his breaths, in for four, and out for four. He closes his eyes, focusing on the touch of someone’s hands on his chest, holding him against the door. Just as he catches his breath, he feels his mind become fuzzy, the sound of his sister yelling into the phone distant. 

“ _Veni,_ _veni_ _, Emmanuel..._ _captivum_ _solve_ _Isreal_ _... qui_ _gemit_ _in_ _exilio_ _..._ _privatus_ _dei_ _filio_ _...”_ Alec watches as the group of elderly singers all dressed in red and green elf outfits sing in the hospital lobby. He holds an ice pack to his knuckles, ignoring the water dripping onto the floor. Outside it was snowing, the white flurry gently falling over the streets. Isabelle sits next to him, staring out the window at the cars slowly moving through the slush. She hadn’t looked at her older brother since they arrived. 

Max sits down across them, opening a bag of cookies. He places one in his mouth, and then chews it with his mouth open. “Seriously?” Isabelle questions, glaring at her younger brother. “At a time like this?” 

“What? It’s not like any of us could eat whatever fancy food Mom tried to prepare,” Max says. “The nurse gave it to me. The best gift I got tonight.” Isabelle scoffs and looks back out the window just as Maryse walks back from her conversation with the doctor, a bag from the gift shop in her hand. She sits next to Max and takes one of the cookies out of the bag. “Hey, get your own.” 

Maryse chews the cookie slowly, her eyes falling on Alec. “Honey, you’re making a mess,” she says, gesturing to the small puddle of water leaking from the bag of ice. Alec doesn’t respond, he just looks at her. “Your father will be fine,” Maryse continues. “His nose is broken and he has a cracked rib. But he will make a smooth recovery. The rest of it is just bruises.” Alec sighs and leans back in his chair. Maryse looks at him endearingly and holds out the bag. “These are for you,” she says. 

Alec hesitantly takes the bag, wincing as he moves his fingers. He opens it slowly, revealing a pair of slippers with reindeer on them dressed in Christmas clothes. On the end of the toe on each shoe was a red bow with a bell attached. “What is this for?” 

“It’s all they had left in the gift shop. And it’s for something we should have done a long time ago,” Maryse says. “Take of your shoes,” she points to the converse that Alec had worn every day since he got them from his box on his release day from Rikers.

“What?” 

“Now, Alexander,” Maryse says. “I recognize those. I got them for you for Christmas when you were sixteen, and you haven’t stopped wearing them since. Which means you were wearing them that night. And I won’t let you live this... reminder any longer. Off. Now. We will get a more suitable pair after tomorrow.” She grabs Alec’s forearm and pulls him up, out of his chair. They walk to the trash can, and under her watchful gaze, Alec slides the converse off and watches as his mother picks them up and drops them into the garbage. They both look at the worn shoes for a moment. “You aren’t a coward, you know.” 

“I’m sorry about what I did,” Alec whispers. “I don’t know what-” 

“You don’t need to worry about your father,” Maryse says. “It’s clear that he shouldn’t be in your life. We both have caused such a mess. But... at least without him, we can try to repair it.” Alec opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t know what to say. Frowning, he slips on the slippers, grimacing as the small bells jingle with each step he took back to his siblings. Two of the nurses smile at him, whispering to each other, but they were the furthest thing from his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3 I love writing this story!


	14. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for mentions of drug abuse and sexual content

_ Alec bites his lip hard enough that the taste of metallic stings his tongue, stifling the moaning that was getting more and more difficult to hold back. Instinctively, his hands pull at Sebastian’s hair, keeping his head in between Alec’s legs while the pressure in his lower stomach kept building. As he cries out, Sebastian’s hand shifts from his shoulder up to his mouth and he feels the other man’s fingers slide in between his lips. “Oh, God,” Alec gasps, his voice ringing in the small supply closet that was attached to one of the laundry rooms. “Don’t stop, I...” His words become muffled as the fingers in his mouth hit the back of his throat. “Jace!” Alec groans, his voice muffled. At first, he had thought it was only a coincidence he and Sebastian had been put on laundry duty together. But now it made sense why there wasn't anyone else around.  _

_ As Alec relaxes, his back bumping against the closet door, he sees Sebastian smirking. With a shaky hand, he reaches over, his palm brushing against the front of the other man’s pants. Sebastian sits back, his shoulder bumping Alec’s. Gently, he grasps Alec’s wrist, guiding it under his pants. Alec’s eyes widen when he realizes that the other inmate wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” Sebastian whispers, letting out a small laugh. _

_ “I should be saying the same thing,” Alec says, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t know you were...” _

_ “I’m not,” Sebastian says. “But there are worse ways to pass the time in this place, and-” his voice becomes higher pitched as Alec’s hand starts moving faster. “And, uh, I saw how you stare at the wall in the showers. Seems practiced to me.”  _

_ “I have a lot of practice,” Alec says, swinging his leg over to straddle Sebastian’s lap. He licks his hand and brings it down to join the other. “ _ _ So _ _ do you, for someone who... isn’t... you know,” before he can finish, Sebastian surges forward and captures his lips in a heated kiss. Alec starts rolling his hips, and within a couple of minutes Sebastian moans into Alec’s shoulder, resting his forehead on his collar bone. _

_ After the two men compose themselves, they readjust their clothes and walk back out into the laundry room to actually do their work. They were low risk, so luckily a guard hadn’t come to check on them yet. “Embarrassing as it is, that’s not the first time I’ve heard someone else’s name while I was... providing services.”  _

_ Alec’s face flushes a dark red, and he looks down at the pants he’s folding. “I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean to, you-” _

_ “I remind you of someone,” Sebastian says. Alec looks up at him, frowning. “I can tell. Sometimes when you look at me, I can see this sadness in your eyes. The most we’ve ever done together is... well... what just happened. So, I know it must be from someone else. But I hope I was better than whoever Jace is.”  _

_ “He’s not gay,” Alec says, tossing another folding pair of pants into the basket on the table. _

_ “Yeah, neither am I.”  _

_ “No, he’s... really not. He’s my best friend. He was my best friend. I don’t want to talk about it. But I guess I have a thing for blondes, I guess,” Alec says. “He never liked me the way I wanted to. There’s no point in dwelling on it.”  _

_ “Keep telling yourself that,” Sebastian says. “We both know how hard it is to forget who we are.” Alec shrugs, leaning against the washing machine. “You’ve only been here a little over a year,” Sebastian continues. “I know a way we can get both of our times to go by a lot faster.”  _

_ Alec shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I... I can’t get in trouble again.”  _

_ “We won’t,” Sebastian says, stepping forward. He runs his hands up and down Alec’s back for a moment. He stops at the other man’s shoulder blades and presses his thumbs into the tight muscle. Alec sighs, closing his eyes, trying to relax. “The guards have more to worry about than two junkies nodding off in the laundry room. Besides, you know what it takes to survive in here.”  _

_ “Sebastian,” Alec whispers.  _

_ “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of seeing their faces every time I close my eyes,” Sebastian says. “And I know you are too.” Alec feels his hands travel further down, landing on his lower back. “You can say no. I won’t be mad. But you know the guy in block twelve? Irish, tall, red-head? He’s in pretty good shape, too. And he made me a generous offer the other day. But he’s more into brunettes.”  _

_ “Are you trying to be my pimp?” Alec asks, narrowing his eyebrows. “Sebastian, you can’t-”  _

_ “I’m not making you do anything, Alec,” Sebastian says, pulling away. He cups Alec’s face between his hands, brushing his hair out of his face. “I promise. Nothing you don’t want to do. It was just an offer. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’m your friend. Or... whatever is going on between us.” In the hallway, they heard footsteps, indicating the schedule was changing. Sebastian kisses Alec’s cheek, and slides something into his hand before walking away. Alec stands still for a moment, and then looks down at the small package of white powder Sebastian left him.  _

New Year's had become obsolete in Alec’s mind for the last six years. While some of the inmates celebrated it, he had found that time blended together the longer you were locked up, away from society. The last year of his imprisonment went by the slowest. Every day felt like a month. His body moved slowly, and his mind was fuzzy. Images of Jace or Simon would flash across his mind when he closed his eyes, so sometimes he would stay awake for days. Now, on his first New Year’s Eve since his release, he found himself helping his mother finish packing up the old office before the new owner would move in the next day.  _ It’s the least I can do to make up for everyone losing their jobs, Alexander,  _ she had said. His knuckles were still bruised from attacking his father, and hurt when he moved each box of supplies. The memory was already blurry, but when he tried to sleep at  night, he heard the screams of Isabelle as she begged him to stop. 

“I think this is the last of it,” Maryse says as she places the last box on the  cart they were using to move everything outside. “So, I’m done torturing you for the evening.” Alec doesn’t say anything, instead he just looks around at the plain floor. The desks were in a disarray, and some papers were still scattered on the floor. He remembers how busy it seemed when he was a kid, but now he realized that it was just people passing the time before the clock hit five. “You know, I feel bad actually. I had no idea what Robert was doing. But somehow, this still feels like it’s partly my fault.” 

“It’s Camille’s fault,” Alec says. “And Dads. You shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

“ Usually, I’m the one telling  _ you  _ that,” Maryse says. “It’s just... if Robert and I had repaired our relationship. If I hadn’t let him fall into her little trap... things would have been different.” 

“Dad chose to date her,” Alec says. “And then she... you know...” he thinks back to the video of him and Underhill. “This place sucks anyway.” 

“You used to think I was cool,” Maryse says, smirking. “When you were little, I would let you make copies for me while I was in meetings. And you would staple them together. You were so cute, just like a little businessman,” As Maryse continues reminiscing about her son, Alec’s eyes fall on a couple cans of spray paint in one of the boxes. He bends over and picks one of them up, eyeing it suspiciously. 

“What do you have these for?” He asks, holding up both of the cans. 

“Oh, years ago we hosted a fundraiser in a parking lot. I think Robert had an intern paint lines for the cars or something? I don’t quite remember.” 

“They’re almost full,” Alec says, smirking. “There’s no one else here. We could... you know...” 

“Alexander, absolutely not.” 

“Come on, you know you want to.” 

“We would get caught!” 

“There’s no one around,” Alec says, raising his voice. “Come on, doesn’t this place piss you off? This is the business that you helped build, and worked up the chain in, and Dad fucks it all up because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants,” as he finishes talking, Alec kicks over one of the office chairs, and it lands with a soft thud. 

“Alexander-” 

“This place fucking sucks!” Alec yells, and Maryse holds her breath, sure that someone would walk in that second and kick them out. But no one comes, and she watches with wide eyes as Alec pushes over another chair, and then kicks an empty trash can. It slides across the floor, hitting the wall. Alec shakes one of the paint cans and takes off the lid. 

“Alexander, stop,” Maryse pleads, walking over to her son. “They’re going to know it was us.” 

“So what? You told me a tech startup is moving into this space. They’re just going to paint over these walls with some hippie mural and replace everything with standing desks. No one’s going to know or care, Mom,” he holds his hand up to the wall and starts painting. The lines are shaky, and uneven, but his picture is clear enough. 

“Very original,” Maryse says, her voice deadpan.

“It’s from the heart,” Alec says, smiling as he hands his mother the paint can.

“It looks just like your fathers. Short and hairy.” 

“Gross,” Alec complains, turning away as Maryse hesitantly starts spraying the wall. She grimaces as the paint comes out, dripping down the bricks. Alec pushes over one of the desks, hearing one of the wooden legs crack as it hits the floor. The more stuff he pushes around, the more he thinks about the video of him and Underhill. The older man’s hand on his lower back, sliding down. It was something he had forgotten about, until Camille had somehow gotten ahold of it and used Alec as her pawn. He throws a potted fake plant, the vase shattering against the wall. Barely thinking, Alec pushes over another desk, and kicks another chair. Just as he’s about to punch one of the cubicles, he feels a hand on his shoulder. His mother pulls him into a tight hug, squeezing him until he calms down. 

“I think it’s time we left this place for good,” Maryse says. Alec nods, and together they walk to the elevator. As the doors close, he spots words sloppily painted on the wall.  _ Fuck You Robert.  _

“You didn’t have to stay in with me, you know,” Magnus says from the other side of the couch later that night. On the television, Alec watches as the New  Year's party was getting nearer to dropping the ball. “You should have gone to that party with Simon. I’m sure it’s a lot more fun than watching me edit a chapter of  Ragnor’s book.” 

“I disagree,” Alec says, looking over at the other man. Magnus’s hands were covered in ink from his pen, and his glasses sat low on his nose. “I know you aren’t much of a party animal, but even just sitting here with you is more genuine than any crowded apartment in this city.” 

“Is that I subtle way to call me a nerd?” Magnus asks, smirking. He brings the cap of the pen up to his mouth and chews on it for a moment, his eyes not moving from Alec’s.

“It wasn’t supposed to be, but I wouldn’t say it wasn’t.” 

“Now you sound more cryptic than whatever the hell  Ragnor is trying to say to his audience in this chapter,” Magnus says. “There is such a thing as having too many words. And too short of a deadline,” he sighs, placing the pen down on the coffee table in front of him, along with the stack of papers. “Are you sure this is more fun than whatever it is your friends are doing?” 

Alec shrugs, leaning back on the couch. “Even if I wanted to go, it’s not a good idea. Simon is... unstable. Who knows what kind of party he dragged Maia to? I’ll probably hear all about it tomorrow when her hangover goes away.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s just the two of us. The last time we went to a party didn’t exactly end the way I wanted it to.” 

“Magnus...” Alec hated it when Magnus brought up their fight. It only made him feel guilty, and since then they had barely talked about it.

“I’m ruining the mood, I know,” Magnus says, scooting over and resting his head on Alec’s shoulder. “You know, New Year’s used to be my least favorite holiday of the year. Celebrating with the other foster children was only a reminder that we were just counting the days until the state cut us loose. The most I ever did was sneak a rum and coke at some girl’s party, and even then, I ended up watching the clock change alone in the bathroom, hiding from her and her friends.”

“Hiding at parties is a hidden talent of mine,” Alec says, and Magnus chuckles against his arm. “Sometimes it’s more fun being by yourself anyway.” 

“Once Catarina took me to an avant garde performance art for the new year... At least, that’s what I thought it was. Maybe it was just an orgy? It ended that way. But we left once the festivities surpassed a PG-13 rating. Your company certainly beats _that_ night.” 

“Glad to know I’m better than a bunch of naked painters,” Alec says. “Maybe I can put it on the resume that my mother keeps pressuring me to make, even though she already gave me the job.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to at least try,” Magnus says. “Just don’t tell them you slept with your former boss.” 

“I’ll try not to,” Alec says, and his eyes drift back to the T.V., where the confetti was already streaming on the screen. “Oh, shit... 12:03? We missed it.”

“Whatever will we do?” Magnus asks, holding up his body weight, his face inches from Alec’s. “We’ll have to wait until next year, I suppose.” 

“We both know you don’t have the willpower.” 

“Me? I think you’re mistaken. You’re the one who-” Alec interrupts the other man, cupping his cheek and softly kissing him. After a moment, Magnus reaches for Alec’s upper back and pulls him closer. Before Alec’s brain can fully process it, he feels his body hit the floor. He ignores the small burst of pain in his back as Magnus peels off his sweater, revealing Alec’s pale chest. Magnus leans down, gently kissing over the newest tattoo, before moving his mouth down further. As he works on leaving a mark on Alec’s hipbone, he unzips Alec’s pants and slides them down to his knees.

“Magnus,” Alec gasps as he feels a hand breach the waist band of his underwear. “I... Uh...” he trails off at the feeling of Magnus’s mouth on his inner thigh. At first, images of different men whose body’s Alec got to know in the Riker’s supply closet flash across his mind. He closes his eyes, trying to focus on the slow-moving strokes of Magnus’s hands over him. Alec moans louder as Magnus’s fingers travel under him, and his mind turns into a fog for the rest of the night. 

It wasn’t until early in the morning, before Magnus’s alarm was set to go off, that Alec comes back to reality. He stares at the ceiling, narrowing his eyebrows. His legs still felt week, but the tension was already coming back to his body in his neck and shoulders. He sighs, and looks over Magnus, watching him slowly breath in and out through his mouth. Alec forces himself up and walks out into the apartment, finding his clothes scattered around the living room. He knew that if he left before Magnus got up, he would hear about it later, but he couldn’t help it as he walked out the door and down the hall. In the elevator he ignores the tight feeling in his chest, one that would keep growing whether he wanted it to or not. 

“Do you think you’re cut out to work in an office?” Dr. Garroway asks. Outside, the traffic was slow, the cars slipping on the wet street. Another sheet of snow had covered the city over night, one of Alec’s least favorite features of February. Since the start of the year, he had found himself working for his mother at her new job. It was a demotion from what she had before, but it was enough work for her to need an assistant. Alec spent every day from 9 to 5 making copies and stapling pages together. He had even memorized everyone’s coffee orders. The pay check wasn’t bad, but he hadn’t touched any of the money since it started being wired to his account. Most of the other interns didn’t pay him any mind, and he got to listen to music and text with Magnus as much as he wanted to as long as he showed up wearing a tie.

“It’s quiet,” Alec says. “I don’t mind the busy work. It distracts me while I wait for the weekend so I can see Magnus.” The new semester had been busier for Magnus than before. He had to balance editing  Ragnor’s book and managing the department. It felt bittersweet. As much as Alec wanted to be around him more, he knew that the professor’s career was important to him, which meant it had to be important to Alec too. 

“A career isn’t about passing the time,” Dr. Garroway says. “It’s about building something for yourself. Something to look forward to.” 

“We both know that I’m never going to have a  _ career,”  _ Alec says, crossing his arms. 

“Alec, your world is bigger than you think it is. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for you to do that you care about.” 

“I can’t be a teacher. No school is going to hire a felon. I can’t work for the government. I can’t work in health care. The only reason I even have this intern job is because of my mother. I have a GED that I got when I was twenty-five, and even before that I would have barely graduated high school anyway.” 

“I know things seem bleak right now, but there’s always something. You can always go back to school. What did you always want to do when you were younger?” Dr. Garroway asks, but Alec doesn’t answer, instead he looks away from his therapist. “I wanted to be a firefighter. I have the abs for it, you know,” he chuckles. “But not the courage.” 

“There isn’t anything,” Alec says, looking back over. “That’s the problem. I... I was supposed to follow in my father’s footsteps. Get a business degree from some overpriced Ivy League. Join Belcourt Co, somehow buy it out and make it become Lightwood Co. Own the stock market while my wife and kids read about me in Forbes. It didn’t matter what I wanted. I knew that, even when I was a kid. And in high school, I...” Dr. Garroway nods, encouraging him to continue. Alec opens his mouth to talk, but stops, his mind drifting back to images of Simon and Jace smoking at parties. “I didn’t think I would get this far, I guess,” he stands up, pacing behind the chair. 

“This is good,” Dr. Garroway says, standing up with Alec. He paces with him, following Alec’s movements. His patient stops to glare at him, but continues pacing anyway. “What are you realizing?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“But you do know, Alec. Something is clicking for you. And if we can figure out what it is, then we can figure out how to move past it.”

“It’s just,” Alec stops, staring at the floor. His eyes fall on the vans his mother had bought him. They didn’t have laces, and were a plain black. He slipped in the snow when he walked, but he didn’t mind. “Jace. When I met Jace, I think I knew why I liked him so much. Simon was skeptical, but I followed him around from the moment we met. I did anything for him. And I loved him. All this time, I’ve told myself that I did what I did because I loved Jace. But... it wasn’t him. It was me. All of it. I...” 

“Alec, you can’t blame yourself for-”

“Don’t you get it? You’re supposed to understand. Because... I.... I knew that it was only going to get worse, okay? When I had my first cigarette, there was something about it that was just... different from Simon and Jace. Simon was running away from his mother. She was overbearing, and his home life was complicated, so he needed an out. Jace’s dad was abusive. He needed something to soften the pain. But me? I was... running from  _ myself.”  _

Dr. Garroway watches as Alec grabs his jacket off of the coat rack. “Alec, we still have twenty minutes left. Let’s start to work through this.” 

“No,” Alec says. “This is useless anyway. I’m unfixable.” 

“Alec, that’s not true. Sit down and-” 

“It’s been a year, and what’s changed? I barely made it through my parole. If the officer had figured out that I’ve been drinking she would have put me back behind bars. We tried family therapy, and instead I broke my father’s rib. My siblings are scared of me. My mother is only trying because she feels bad about who I am. There’s no way to fix this. I should just quit and stop wasting money.”

“Recovery takes time,” Dr. Garroway pleads, walking over to his patient. “And it’s about ups and downs. You aren’t ready to be out in the world without an outlet. You can’t just stop now, Alec. We’ve only breached the surface.”

“Maybe there isn’t as much depth to me as you think there is,” Alec says, opening the door. He can hear Dr. Garroway protesting behind him, but he ignores it as he walks out of the office. In the lobby, a child and her mother watch as he storms out, slamming the door behind him. 

The morning after Valentine’s Day, Alec wakes up alone in Magnus’s bed. His body was sore from the night before, although the empty bottle on the night stand made it hazy. Magnus had protested to drinking, but Alec had already had a quarter of the bottle on the subway on his way there. Alec forces himself off the mattress and spots his boxers on the floor next to the dresser. 

He slides them on and looks at himself in the mirror. His hair stuck up in different directions. It had grown longer in the past couple of months without Isabelle around to drag him to  Meliorn’s salon. It fell just below his shoulders, wavier than he remembered. In his drunken haze, Magnus had maybe gone a little overboard. Hickey’s lined Alec’s neck, trailing down to his chest. He spots a light bite mark on his hip and blushes, remembering how he had clawed at Magnus’s back, squeezing the other man until he drew blood. In the living room he heard the morning news and the coffee machine. 

Just as he slides on his sweatpants, his phone rings from somewhere in the room. He looks around for it, finding it under the bed. He doesn’t recognize the number, but answers it anyway. As he sits back against the bed frame, a familiar automated message plays in his ear. “ _ An inmate from the Otisville-”  _ Alec presses the pound sign, allowing the call to go through. On the other line hears breathing, and a crowd of voices in the background. He pulls himself up and walks out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. The city was busy with the brunch rush under him, the cabs honking. For a minute, the two men just sit on the phone in silence. In the back of his mind Alec knew it was just running up Jace’s phone time bill.

“I’m still in love with Clary,” Jace says on the other line. Alec’s hand wraps around the railing at the sound of his voice, his knuckles turning white from the tension. He stares across the street to the apartment building across from Magnus’s, his eyes focusing on the bricks. “I called her yesterday to tell her but I think she’s finally over it. I was such an asshole to her, and yet I can’t get over her.” 

Alec doesn’t answer for a moment, instead taking a deep breath. “Why are you telling me this?” He asks, and he can hear Jace’s breathing hitch at the sound of his voice. Sometimes, while he was lying in his bunk over the years, he would fantasize about what his next conversation with Jace would be. If there would even be one. Would they reconcile, and Alec would finally get the person he longed for to finally reciprocate his feelings? Or would they fight, blaming each other for what happened? 

Another minute goes by before Jace answers. In the background of the call Alec could hear a voice raised over the others.  _ Hurry the fuck up  _ _ Herondale _ _. Some of us actually have families we need to talk to.  _ Jace sighs into the phone, causing a static noise. “Do you regret it?” 

“Every day,” Alec says. 

“Not that. You know what I mean.” 

“Do you?” 

Jace hangs up the phone, and for a moment Alec stays on the balcony, looking down at the crowd of people below him. He runs his hands through his hair and closes his eyes, trying to block out the sound of a gunshot ringing through his head. Images of blood on his shoes, and Jace pushing him away when he kissed him in the holding cell. Someone clears their throat, and he opens his eyes, looking to spot Magnus’s elderly neighbor staring at him from her own balcony. Alec looks at her for a moment, before remembering how many marks Magnus left on his skin. He blushes and goes back inside. 

The bed was made, meaning Magnus had come back into the room while Alec was on the phone. He starts to panic, unsure if the other man had heard him or not. With shaky hands, Alec slides on his shirt and walks out into the living room, where he sees Magnus has placed a plate stacked with pancakes on the coffee table. 

“You slept well it seems,” Magnus says, gesturing to the clock reading 12:34.

“You should have woken me up,” Alec says. He goes through the motions of sitting next to Magnus on the couch and picking up a plate, but his mind was still on Jace. 

“I could tell you needed to rest,” Magnus says. “After last night... I could tell you needed a blank mind for a while.” Alec tries to think back to the night before, but he only remembered pieces. Magnus’s lips on his own. His own voice echoing off the bedroom walls. He remembers his feet on the carpet, walking back and forth, but he couldn’t put together a solid image of what exactly happened.

As Alec bites into the pancake, he tastes something sweeter than what he expected. It’s sticky in his mouth, and almost too sweet for him to enjoy. “Is this... the candy I bought you yesterday?” 

Magnus laughs. “I thought it would be a good use of it... but maybe I was wrong. It seems more like something  Madzie would enjoy.” Alec shrugs and continues eating the pancakes, grimacing at the caramel mixing with the syrup. “How are you feeling?” 

Alec feels his shoulders tense, but he counts to ten, relaxing them. “I’m fine,” he says, his voice quiet. Had Magnus heard the phone call? Was he suspicious of what Jace was talking about? 

“You didn’t seem fine last night,” Magnus says, looking over at him. He puts his plate down and runs his hand across Alec’s cheek, cupping it in his palm.

“I’ll admit I had too much to drink last night, but I remember all the good parts,” Alec answers, smirking. He brings his hand up to Magnus’s, resting it on top of the other man’s. “You know I like it when you-” 

“Some things are meant to stay in the bedroom,” Magnus interrupts, his face flushing pink. He shifts, his knee bumping into Alec’s. “I’m talking about what happened after.” Alec looks at him, his mind blanking. Had he said something about Jace? Had he said Jace’s name on accident? “You don’t remember,” Magnus continues. “Alec, you know that drinking is going to lead you back down the path of-” 

“I know, Magnus,” Alec says. “I don’t want to get lectured right now, okay? I just wanted to celebrate our first Valentine’s Day. I needed it to relax.” 

Magnus sighs and leans back, his hand leaving Alec’s face. “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just... forget it. That’s not what we need to talk about anyway. Last night after we had sex, you started talking about something. I’m not entirely sure what, but it seemed... sudden. Like maybe something we had done had triggered you.” 

Alec puts down his plate and groans. “I know you’re mad at me for quitting therapy. I don’t need you to try and psychoanalyze me, Magnus. I’m doing just fine without Garroway.” 

“This isn’t about Luke,” Magnus says. “It was like something just changed in your brain, and suddenly you start calling yourself names, and talking about Rikers. And if you don’t remember it, then maybe it’s something worth thinking about, Alec. Clearly something happened last night that triggered some sort of memory, and you can’t just try to push it away.” 

Suddenly, bits and pieces of the night start to come back to Alec’s mind. He remembers after he and Magnus had finished, Magnus had turned Alec around on the bed, his face buried in the pillow. He was massaging his shoulders, when the lotion bottle had fallen off the bed, landing on the floor, and in Alec’s head he heard the sound of the mop handle falling to the floor in the supply closet. He remembered the feeling of Sebastian’s hands on his body. Sometimes others. The feelings of pleasure only to be followed by disgust. The way the ketamine had clouded his mind, making the days go by in a blur. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with his  prescription , or maybe it was just something wrong with Alec, but he had felt that same sense of disgust and gotten off of the bed. When Magnus asked him what was wrong, he had told him without even realizing it. 

“Magnus, I...” Alec buries his head in his hands, not bothering to look at the other man. “I didn’t want to drag you into anything. I don’t know why I said anything. I was just drunk, and... now you’re going to think of me differently and I-” 

“Alec, nothing between us has changed,” Magnus says, resting his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Your past doesn’t define who you are. You know that nothing you did before we met would change my opinion of you. I love you for who you are.” Alec looks back up, their eyes meeting. He wanted to believe Magnus, he really does, but deep down he knew if Magnus knew the truth, he would never speak to Alec again.

“What I said was right,” Alec says. “I’m a whore. I was one, anyway. I... liked distracting myself with other people’s bodies. But in the end, I did it all just to get high. I’m disgusting. I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t want to-” 

“Alec, there’s so many things I want to do with you,” Magnus interrupts. He pulls Alec closer to him, hugging him. “Whatever you did to get by, is just that. You did what you needed to. I’ll never understand how it felt to be locked up in there. But I’m here for you. I’ll bare your secrets with you. If you’ll let me.” Alec sighs, hiding his face in Magnus’s shoulder. “But for now, maybe we should... hold off on anything sexual. Until you work out some of this. You should call Luke.” 

“No,” Alec mutters, his voice muffled by Magnus’s shoulder. He knew it would be an argument they would have later, but in the moment, he just wanted to be held. 

Alec changed the office calendar after his lunch break. He had forgotten to do it at first, until another intern pointed it out. He flips the page, revealing a photograph of a kitten dressed in a green tuxedo. He stares at it for a moment, before turning back around to face his small desk. Just as he sits down, someone walks into the room, and Alec and the other interns all look up. It’s Maia, carrying a cardboard box. Alec notices how tired she looked. Her eyes were surrounded by a dark purple hue, and her coat was buttoned wrong, making it look crooked. She walks to Alec’s desk and places the box on top of it. “Maia? What are you doing here? What’s this?” Alec peers into the box, recognizing a worn green hoodie. 

“We need to talk,” Maia says. “Now.” 

“I just back from my break, I don’t-” 

“Alec.” 

With a sigh, Alec looks around at the other interns, who all stare at him. As he grabs his coat, he sees them all make an annoyed face. “I guess I could start my coffee run early.” As the pair walk out, he feels their eyes on his back. 

They walk in silence across the street to the coffee shop. Maia sits at a table in the corner of the shop near the window while Alec relays the order to the barista. Once he pays, he walks back over to his friend to wait. “I broke up with Simon. I can’t bring myself to see him, so I brought his stuff to you so you could give it back.”

“Sure,” Alec says. “I can get it back to him for you.” Maia nods, her eyes staring down at the table. 

“You haven’t been to group in a while,” Maia says. “Susan asked about you the other day. Her and the others are getting kind of worried.” 

“I haven’t really been feeling up to it,” Alec mutters. “I quit therapy last month anyway.” 

“You quit? Just like that? Alec...”

“I’ve already been lectured enough, Maia. I don’t need it from you too,” Alec turns away from her. He feels his leg starting to bounce under the table, but he ignores it. “I’m fine. I’m just... sick of burdening other people with my shit.” 

“I wish Simon had given me that luxury,” Maia says. Her tone was different than before. It was quieter, but still pointed. Alec looks back up at her, their eyes meeting. “He told me about what happened. About why you were arrested.” 

Alec looks around the coffee shop, sure that other people were listening. The other patrons pay them no mind, talking amongst themselves. He sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I already told you that I had a drug problem,” he says, his voice low. “Why does that change anything now?” 

“Because you didn’t do time for your drug problem, Alec,” Maia says, leaning forward too. She narrows her eyebrows, keeping her piercing gaze on Alec. “You’re a murderer.” 

At her last word, Alec recoils, sitting back in his chair. He moves with enough force that it slides on the tiles, screeching for a moment. The couple at the table next to them peer over, and Alec waits for them to talk again before he responds. “That’s not what happened,” Alec whispers, looking at the woman with wide eyes. “I didn’t... I’m not the one...” 

“Does it matter who did what?” Maia asks. “When it comes down to it, a child lost her father. A wife lost a husband.” She grits her teeth for a moment, and takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m not going to say anything to anyone. I just... Does Magnus know?” 

“What does Magnus have to do with any of this?” Alec asks. He knew that since he had introduced them, Magnus and Maia had kept in contact, but he wasn’t sure how often they spoke.

“Have you told him?” Maia asks.

“No,” Alec says. “It’s in the past. And I... I don’t want to freak him out. He’s been through enough in his life already.” 

“You aren’t sparing him, Alec,” Maia says. “The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to get. I... I was starting to really like Simon, okay? He’s sweet, and smart. I thought he was different than the other guys I’ve dated. But I was wrong. He’s a liar, and he’s not who I thought he was. I don’t understand how he can live with  himself, and I-”

“You don’t get it,” Alec interrupts, raising his voice. “You’ll never understand. And I don’t expect you to. I know I’ve been lying to you, but now you know why. Now you’ve gotten a taste of it.” 

“Of what, Alec? Of feeling gullible? Used?” 

“Feeling guilty,” Alec answers. The barista calls his name, and for a moment he looks at Maia before walking back to the counter to get the coffee. When he turns around, she’s gone. With a sigh, he walks back to the office building and drops off each order. His mother’s eyes linger on him as he places the cup on her desk. She reaches out,  caressing his hand, but he ignores it, instead going back to his desk. The rest of the day he sits, listening to the seconds go by on the clock. 

The last week of March was spring break for the students in the city. Alec had been looking forward to spending the week with Magnus, but  Ragnor’s book was nearly ready for publishing, and he was due to help with the official release in London. “I promise, I’ll bring you back the best scone you’ll ever have,” Magnus says, cupping Alec’s face with his hands. He kisses his forehead, and Alec feels his legs go weak at the gesture. They hadn’t had sex since Valentine’s Day, and Alec made sure to hide how touch starved he was when they were together.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alec says. Around them, people flood the subway entrance. The tourists were already in the city, ready to crowd the streets in the name of spring break. “I’ll miss you,” Alec continues. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Magnus says. He kisses Alec’s cheek this time. “I’ll text you when I land. You’ll probably be asleep, so don’t worry about waiting up for me.” 

“We both know I’ll be awake,” Alec says. Magnus frowns, and he brings his thumbs closer to Alec’s eyes, touching the dark circles that stained his face. “I shouldn’t go. I’ll call  Ragnor and tell him-”

“Magnus, this is your job,” Alec says. “I’ll be fine. Max is going to be home all week. We’ll probably just be playing video games.” It was half true. The two brothers had taken to playing video games in silence, sitting on each end of the couch.

“If you need to talk about anything call me,” Magnus says. “I don’t care what time it is. I’m... worried about you, Alec.” 

“Don’t be,” Alec says, shrugging. “Magnus. I’ll be fine.” 

“You know I can see through you,” Magnus says. 

“You’re going to miss your flight if you don’t catch the next train,” Alec says. Magnus looks at the subway entrance, then back at the other man. He sighs, then leans forward, kissing Alec chastely on the mouth. 

“Okay, I’m going. But, just promise me, if things are bad... call me. Or Luke, or-” 

“Go, Magnus,” Alec says. Magnus’s eyes shift, but Alec can’t read the expression. Magnus kisses him again, still gentle, before disappearing into the crowd. After standing at the top of the stairs for a few minutes, Alec heads back to the apartment. 

When he gets back, Max is sitting on the couch, his gaze lost in the T.V. On the screen his character shoots at the opposing team. He kills someone, but doesn’t say anything. Alec watches for a moment before sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. For a while, he just watches the screen as his little brother plays the game. The mission ends, sending Max back to the loading screen. He and Alec make eye contact in their reflections on the screen, and Max looks away hastily.

Alec bites his lip, unsure of if he should say something or not. Without saying anything, Max hands Alec the other controller and switches the game to multiplayer. For a while they just play, not talking to each other. Since Christmas, the only time that they spent together was on the couch with their eyes glued to the screen. The conversation was light, mostly just small talk about school or the weather. Alec could tell that Isabelle was scared of him. She kept her distance when they did see each other and only texted him to check in about small things. In a way, Alec missed the prying. Max didn’t seem scared of Alec. But there was something in his eyes whenever he looked at his older brother. Without needing to say it, Alec could tell that Max was questioning himself. He had trusted Alec, had confided in him as the only person who could possibly understand him. But now, it had become apparent that Max didn’t really know Alec at all. 

In the game, Alec snipes the last member of the enemy team, ending it. As the screen loads the next level, Alec looks over at his younger brother. “So, uh... is school going okay?” 

“It’s fine,” Max answers, the same answer he had been saying all semester. “I’m glad to get a break. It’s a lot easier than the work at Stanford.” 

“Have you made any friends?” Alec asks. 

“Not really,” Max says. “It’s not the same as Stanford. There are no dorms, no parties or frats. Everyone just shows up to class and then leaves.”

“Right,” Alec says. The next level loads, and they go back to playing the game, although Alec glances over at Max a few times. He hears his younger brother sigh, and looks over. Someone kills his character, and their team loses the match. Max puts his remote down on the coffee table and stares down at the floor while the screen loads again. 

“I heard Magnus is going to be gone all week,” Max says. “Mom told me.” 

“He’s going to London,” Alec says. “Something for a book he’s editing.” 

“That’s cool.” 

“I guess.” 

“He’s way out of your league.” 

“I know,” Alec puts his controller down next to Max’s. They sit in silence for a minute while he takes out his dab pen from his pocket. He takes a hit, then slowly blows out the vapor, watching it disappear in front of him. 

“Mom would kill you if she saw you using that inside,” Max says. Alec shrug and holds it out to his brother, who takes it. After using it, Max gives it back and looks over. “Mom’s worried about you. She’s trying to get Garroway to host an intervention here for you.” 

“There’s nothing for her to intervene with,” Alec says. “All I do is my office job and hang out with Magnus.” 

“You also hang out with Simon,” Max says. “I can hear you sneaking out at night. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Mom probably knows too.”

“And all we do is hang out, Max,” Alec says. “Sometimes we smoke weed. She doesn’t need to worry about it. And neither should you.” 

“It’s not Simon I’m worried about,” Max says. 

Alec leans back on the couch and rubs his temples, feeling a headache coming. He had barely slept the night before. He was up thinking about Jace, wondering what his call meant. If he was doing okay. He was tougher than Alec, but Alec knew from experience what jail could do to someone. How it could break them down. He wondered if Magnus knew more than he was telling Alec. Or if he at least wondered how much more Alec was hiding. “I’m not going to beat you up, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that. Dad was just... I don’t know. It was different with Dad, okay?” 

“I know,” Max says. “Sometimes, late at night, I can hear your voice through the wall. I can hear your nightmares. You talk in your sleep.” Alec closes his eyes, trying to block out the sunlight leaking into the room. “You sound... scared.”

“I’m not the first person to have nightmares after prison,” Alec says. He kept his eyes closed, but he could hear Max moving on the couch. “You don’t need to worry about it.” 

“You didn’t used to have them,” Max says. “At least not that I could hear. Maybe you should go back to therapy.” 

“I don’t need therapy,” Alec mutters, opening his eyes. He glares at Max and stands up, towering over his brother. “I’m fine. I wish that everyone would just get that, instead of always trying to play psychologist with me. This is just... who I am,” he turns around and walks back to his room, slamming the door behind him. After he locks it, Alec feels his knees go weak, and he slides down the door. As he sits on the floor, he starts counting his breaths, but it doesn’t help. He sits there for hours, trying to quiet the voices in his head. Voices of Jace, of Simon. Sebastian and Magnus. Guards calling him  _ inmate  _ instead of his name. The sound of police sirens and a gun shot. In the evening his mother knocks on the door, but he ignores her, instead crawling into bed. Outside, the city turns quiet, and the sun sets. Sometime in the early hours of the next day, Alec’s phone lights up with a text from Magnus, but he ignores it, his eyes instead falling on a message from Simon. 

_ Party tomorrow for Raphael’s birthday. At the place where you and Jace streaked junior year.  _

Alec sleeps into the late afternoon of the next day, only waking up when he hears gun shots from Max’s game. He forces himself up, ignoring the aching in his bones. His head was light, and his vision took a moment to focus. As he checks the time, he realizes it had been over a day since he had eaten. He had several unread texts from Magnus, including a picture of some landmark that Alec knew nothing about. He quickly responds, assuring Magnus that he loved him, and then gets out of bed. The fridge was stocked with leftovers, which resulted in Alec making a burrito stuffed with day old Chinese food and canned beans. He collapses on the couch next to Max, who doesn’t look up from the screen. Alec gets lost in the game, watching as Max plays through level by level until the sun sets. When his mother gets home, she disappears into her room long enough for Alec to gather himself enough to leave the house. 

As he catches the train, he feels a familiar tight feeling in his chest. He already felt guilty, and he wasn’t even at the party yet. Time passes slowly, and Alec watches as people get on and off around him. An elderly woman with a small dog in the basket of her walker that won’t stop barking. A group of teenagers, clearly high, laughing obnoxiously as one attempted to pole dance. Two men beat box, playing off each other and rhyming their words. Once he finally reaches his stop, Alec gets off, and revels in how unfamiliar the area was. It had changed over the course of six years, with new fast fashion shops and chain restaurants replacing the once family own businesses. 

It takes Alec longer to get to the party than he thought, and when arrives it’s more crowded than he thought it would be. The apartment is familiar, but nicer than he remembered. This time, the furniture was new, and the crowd wore high fashion brands. Simon spots him and beckons him over to join a game of beer pong. Raphael even hugs him when he sees him, stern, similar to how Jace used to. As the game continues, Alec gets reminded of how bad Simon was. He misses nearly every shot, and drinks enough beer for the two of them. It’s not long until he’s stumbling over himself. Alec notices how much better he held the alcohol than when they were younger, but that doesn’t stop him from getting in someone’s face when he trips on their foot. 

“You’re an asshole,” Simon yells, his words slurred.

“Simon,” Alec interjects, but it’s too late. The man socks Simon right in his cheekbone, and Simon barely catches himself against the wall. Around them, the crowd laughs, including Raphael, who’s dilated pupils gave away that he was on more than just  alcohol or weed. 

“It’s fine,” Simon mutters. He makes a face, and then his eyes widen. Alec quickly scoops up his shoulders and drags him down the hallway. They make it to the bathroom just in time for Simon to heave into the toilet bowl. Alec stands against the door, watching as his friend expels the contents of his stomach. After a while, Simon just sits on the floor, his face buried in his arms. 

“You need water,” Alec says. He reaches for the door, but Simon waves arm and shakes his head. 

“No, I’m okay,” Simon says. “I... I need Maia,” his voice cracks, and Alec spots tears welling up in his eyes. “I fucked up.” 

“She told me,” Alec says. He sits on the floor next to Simon, watching as the other man fell apart in front of him. Simon’s eyes turn red from his crying, and his whole body shook with chills. “Simon...” 

“I’m sorry,” Simon chokes out. “I shouldn’t have said anything. That’s our deal, I know, it’s just... I thought if she knew who I really was... then maybe I could be okay with dating her. I felt bad keeping something from her. I... I just want someone to understand me. Someone like Maia, who isn’t just... pretending all the time.” 

Alec sighs. “That’s the point of a secret,” he says. “You keep it to protect the people around you from learning who you really are, Simon. You bare the weight of it so they can live their lives with the person you need to be for them. It’s what we deserve.” 

“I’m not like you,” Simon says. “I can’t just live with hiding who I am. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this, Alec. I just... need it to go away for a while.” Alec feels a longing in his chest as Simon pulls a small bag of white powder out of his pocket. He opens the bag, pouring an uneven line of powder onto the top of his hand. In one swift movement, he inhales it through his nose. Shaking, Simon holds the bag out to Alec. For a moment, Alec just stares at it. In the back of his mind, he heard his own voice screaming at him to stop. To leave, and get out while he still could. But deep down, he knew the reason why he had come to the party in the first place. He never did have enough  self-discipline to say no. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! I suspect this story still had a good 3ish chapters left! <3


	15. Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for violence, drug use

Alec remembered it being easier to hide what he was doing when he was a teenager. His parents worked enough that they didn’t notice if he snuck out, and Max was too young to realize anything was wrong. Isabelle had a busy social life, keeping up appearances with the other children of the wealthy socialites of Manhattan. By the time Alec had gotten back from the party, his mother was up making coffee. She watched him intently as he walked back to his room, dragging his feet. His head was pounding and his eye sight was blurry, but he could see feel her gaze follow him all the way down the hall. He crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow, and he slept late into the afternoon. But this time, instead of the nightmares, everything was just blank. 

For the rest of the week, Alec ignored the stash that Simon had slipped into his pocket that night. It sat in his desk drawer, untouched. But that didn’t mean Alec wasn’t constantly thinking about it. The day before Magnus came back from his trip, while they talked on the phone he stared at the drawer. His leg twitched, bouncing up and down on the bed, creaking the mattress. Alec wanted to care about what Magnus was saying. He missed him more than he thought he would. Without him around he felt hollow. And he only knew one way to fix that feeling. 

At first, it was subtle. For a few weeks, Alec used just enough of the cocaine to keep himself awake. It made him more alert. At work, he got everything done faster than the other interns. His mother let him leave an hour early, enough time to get to the school and meet Magnus for dinner in his office. Magnus had changed his office hours and covered up the small window in his office door so when Alec was there, they could get close on the small couch. More often than not, Alec left with a mark on his collar bone, barely covered up by his shirt. But that was as far as they went. Magnus was still adamant on staying above the belt. Alec felt like he was going on strike, trying to convince him to go to therapy again. 

One day in early April, as Magnus was busying himself kissing Alec’s neck, someone in the next office over dropped something. It landed with a thud, probably just a book, but the sound made Alec flinch, gasping in surprise. Magnus pulled away and looked at him quizzically, watching as the side of Alec’s mouth twitched and his shoulders relaxed. He looked away from Magnus, down at the floor, his eyes looking over the bohemian rug he had placed under the desk. “Are you doing alright?” Magnus asks, gently running the back of his hand over Alec’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” 

“I’m fine,” Alec says, wrapping his hand around Magnus’s wrist. He pulls the other man’s hand off of his face, guiding it to his shoulder instead. “I just thought someone was going to walk in.” 

Magnus looks at him for a moment, his eyes dark, before shrugging. He gets off the couch and walks around to his desk, where a large stack of papers was waiting for him to grade. “You seem... jumpy lately. Did something happen with your mother? Or siblings?” 

“Magnus, I’m fine. I-”

“You’ve been saying that since I met you, you know I can see right through it,” Magnus says, his voice monotone. Alec sighs and gets up from the couch, heading to the door. “Alexander...” he stops to look at Magnus, meeting his eyes. He feels his chest get tight, but he ignores it as Magnus looks away. “This feels like the beginning of something... Just... Talk to me, okay?” 

“Magnus, I’m okay. I love you. You don’t need to worry about me,” Magnus doesn’t say anything, instead he just watches as Alec walks out of his office. He knew things were easier said than done.

Alec had forgotten about the small side effects to his issue. They had become part of who he was when he was a teenager. Back then he figured the twitching in his hands was because he was just nervous, or the acne was because he was young. In the last few weeks his cheeks had sunken in, and the outline of his ribs were starting to show beneath his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had brushed his hair, it felt knotted and greasy. A rash was starting to form on his forearm, and in the mornings, he woke up with marks from scratching it in his sleep. For a while, he had been ignoring it, sure that eventually it would go away. It was never a problem before, not until the morning he woke up with sheets stained with blood. The skin was raw, and the rash was only getting worse. With a sigh, Alec reaches over and texts Isabelle. 

His sister arrives within a half hour, indicating she had left as soon as she got his message. It surprised him, considering how distant she had been since the holidays. When she arrives, she opens the door and finds her older brother sitting on the couch, his knees against his chest. She doesn’t say anything at first, instead she just walks over and sits next to him on the couch for a while. The clock ticks by, and each of them stare at the wall. “Let me see your arm,” Isabelle says, holding out her hand. Hesitantly, Alec pulls up his sleeve, and Isabelle’s soft hands graze his skin. “What happened? This looks bad, Alec.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec mumbles, keeping his gaze away from her face. “It’s just... itchy. It was just a rash, but when I’m sleeping I...”

“What rash?” Isabelle asks, turning his arm over. “Alec, this just looks like you scratched your skin raw.” Alec looks up at her, and he feels his left eye twitch for a moment. Isabelle’s eyes widen, and she looks away, sighing. “You’re... using again. Aren’t you?” 

“I’ve just been drinking sometimes,” Alec says. “And I smoke weed. But it’s nothing serious, I-”

“You look like shit, Alec,” Isabelle interrupts. “It was Simon, isn’t it?” Alec doesn’t answer. “I knew he was using again. I just didn’t think... I didn’t realize that you two had been...” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “We need to wrap this up and disinfect it.” Alec watches as his sister stands up and grabs her keys, looking back at him. “Well?” 

The CVS is a short walk from the apartment, and even though they don’t talk, the look on Isabelle’s face said what she was thinking. Alec could see panic in her eyes, but her eyebrows were narrowed in worry. The way she clenched her jaw showed her anger, but Alec couldn’t tell if she was angry at him or angry at herself. As she purchased the gauze and disinfectant from the clerk, Alec could see her hands were shaking. She was nervous. Or guilty. Or both. 

They sit on a bench in the park across the street from the building, and Alec makes sure to stay still while Isabelle cleaned the wound. It was the same park that he, Jace, and Simon had so many times sat huddled together in the grass, smoking weed or taking pills that weren’t prescribed to him. Laughing at nothing and neglecting their school work. “I’ve been neglecting to tell you about everything that happened between Simon and I for a long time,” Isabelle says. Alec winces as she applies rubbing alcohol to his arm, making it sting. “When it began, I knew you wouldn’t be okay with it, so during our visits I decided not to tell you. I knew what you were going through in there was already hard enough, and I didn’t want to mention it in case it would make you even more upset. I was eighteen, and I thought I had everything under control. And I missed my older brother. I could see you were changing, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” 

“Isabelle,” Alec starts. “You don’t have to justify it. You can have a relationship with whoever you want. It’s not my business.” 

“It’s not just about our relationship,” Isabelle says. “It’s about... lying to you. I could see you were spiraling before what happened. You’ve always been able to uphold a façade, Alec. You fooled me, you fooled all of us. I didn’t realize it until after you went away. Even as a child, your eyes were always... glossed over. During play dates you would run around with the other boys, but even as you laughed there was something forced about it. Like you were just going through the motions, because that’s what you were supposed to do. Be a kid. We had all the toys in the world, and play mates, family friends and classmates and yet... you were lonely. And then something changed, in high school. When you met Jace and Simon, you were more secretive. But you weren’t so lost. There were people who you connected with because they felt the same way.” She wraps the gauze around Alec’s arm gently, securing it just tight enough. 

“Thanks,” Alec says, his voice quiet. As he looks at his wrapped arm, his mind drifts back to lying on the bed in the medical wing of the prison. His wrists aching, loosely wrapped in  blood-soaked fabric. 

“When Simon and I first started dating, it was because we shared one thing in common. We missed you,” Isabelle pauses, watching as a group of children run by, chased by a nanny. “But just like you, he kept his distance. Even when we were at our happiest, going on vacation together in Aspen, or spending the weekend with his mother and sister there was something missing. At first, I thought it was my fault, but then I realized what I had seen in you, was the same thing I was seeing in Simon. There was something missing. He had finished his first stay in rehab by the time we started dating, but within a year he spiraled again. He would kiss me goodbye after dinner, and then go to some party and get drunk. It got worse, he had new friends. Rich party kids who spend hundreds on  cocaine. Over time, he would slowly choose the high over me, and then he would hit rock bottom. The first time, he fell asleep on the subway and woke up in a part of town he had never been to before. He panicked and called me. And even though he was angry, I dropped him off at the rehab center again.” 

“He went through the program, had a sponsor, a therapist, and got better,” Isabelle continues. “We got back together, and things went back to normal. Brunch at the finest places, socialite parties and shopping at high end stores. Simon went to community college, he wanted to work with computers. He was the same nerdy guy I remembered him being growing up. It was nice, he was cute. And things were good for a while. And then just like the first time, he relapsed. The same way. Alcohol. Weed. Then the heavier drugs. He went through the motions of our dates, but he wasn’t really there. And I realized, it was just like you. Going through the motions. We grew distant, but stayed together. Until... I got home, and he was lying on my bathroom floor. He wasn’t conscious, his skin was damp and his hands were shaking. He had overdosed, but I still don’t know if it was on purpose or accidental,” she sighs, pausing for a moment. 

“We got back together. But the last time, even though I had loved him before, it was different. I started dating him because I felt bad for him. Surely, with a girlfriend who made sure he kept up healthy habits and encouraged him to enter in races for charity and keep a job, he would get better. I cared about him still, deeply, and it was a sacrifice I was will to take. It was my turn to be the one going through the motions. It was selfish. I know. I thought I would be some... hero. Like if I could change Simon for the better, it would make up for failing my older brother. But as the date you were getting released got closer, Simon grew distant again. He was still doing his workouts, and meeting friends. But he wasn’t really there. He was slipping again. Nothing I could do helped him. I knew breaking up with him when you got out would just make it worse, but I couldn’t keep pretending. I wanted all my focus to be on you. That’s why I was so adamant in buying you clothes, and giving you all the health supplements and worried so much about your eating. But when it came down to it... with all the secrets, and turning a blind eye... I only made it worse.” 

“Isabelle, none of this is your fault,” Alec says. “This is just who I am. You can’t change it.” 

“I could have changed it, Alec. I should have visited you every weekend. I should have answered more when you called. I should have asked you where you were going when you snuck out. I shouldn’t have been distancing myself from you the past few months. On Christmas, I should have told Dad to shut up. I should have stuck up for you. When you snapped, you... you were so violent, you were liked a completely different person. And I realized I wasn’t scared  _ of  _ you, and I was scared  _ for  _ you. I could feel it coming back. The same way it was with Simon. The need to fill the void in your head. And I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it happen again. So, I stepped back. I thought as long as you were in therapy, and seeing Magnus, that surely it wouldn’t happen. But it did. And now...” she trails off, looking at her brother. “I don’t want it to be too late. Let me take you to the rehabilitation center before it gets any worse, Alec.” 

“No,” Alec answers. “I’m fine, Isabelle. It’s okay.” 

“An okay person doesn’t need to be high to function,” Isabelle says. “You know it’s what you need. A fresh start. You could go back to having sessions with Dr. Garroway, and-”

“I said no, Isabelle,” Alec snaps. “How many ‘fresh starts’ can someone even have? I did my time, and nothing about me changed. I did the GED program, and had a job. I fell in love with Magnus. But I don’t deserve any of it. And you know that.” 

“That’s not true, Alec, you-”

“I’m a bad person, Izzy,” Alec says, raising his voice. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, okay? Look... thank you for helping me today. But that’s all I need from you. I don’t need you trying to play doctor, or-” 

“Alec, you need help.” 

“Just let it happen,” Alec says, getting up from the bench. He gives his sister one last look, before walking away, disappearing into the crowd crossing the street. 

The way Magnus held Alec at night was different than before. They used to get tangled up in each other, sleeping in each other’s arms, keeping warm. Magnus’s hands would find their way under Alec’s shirt, gently rubbing his back, easing the tension out of his shoulder blades. Now, when they went to bed, Magnus would simply rest his hand on Alec’s side, keeping an arm's length between them. When he woke up, Magnus would either already be awake, or his back would be turned to Alec, sleeping clear on the other side of the mattress. It was something Alec had never experienced before. All of his past relationships, if you could even call them that, were based off of using someone else's body to forget about himself. Sometimes, he and Underhill would have deep conversations, late at night. But it was overshadowed by what they did before. Alec had cared for Sebastian deeply, and it pained him whenever the other inmate would berate himself over what he did. It was because they were so similar that Alec felt an attraction to him in the first place. But the way things ended broke their relationship too quickly. He was in love with Jace for years, and the pain of realizing it would never happen hurt, but he went through it alone. 

With Magnus, Alec was realizing he was experiencing the slow-moving, crushing pain of a growing distance. A distance that he had caused the moment he decided to go to that party with Simon. Often, Alec would sit and wonder if that was really when it started, or if it was before. Maybe the downfall was actually when he quit therapy. Or when their first fight happened after he met Dot. Jace’s first phone call. But what Alec feared the most, was that the problem with their relationship was at the source. Himself. At first, Alec’s attraction to Magnus was a light hearted crush, similar to how it started with Jace. A strange sense of longing that he couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was directed at. Surely, he could never have feelings for a teacher that he barely knew. But then, Alec saw Magnus at the art therapy group, outside of class. It was there, probably, where he realized that they connected more than he thought they would. 

Since listening to Isabelle at the park, Alec hadn’t gotten one word out of his mind.  _ Void.  _ He had stormed away from her, not because he didn’t care about her story or about her and Simon’s relationship, but because he felt her trying to interfere. The emptiness that she had mentioned was something Alec had known he had for a long time. He knew it was why he was so connected with Simon and Jace, they felt the same thing, in their own way. And he also knew the quickest way to fill it was by getting so high that you could barely process what was happening around you. But Magnus had found a way to fill that void too, whether he knew it or not. Alec had grown to admire the small things about him. How he would let his glasses slip down to the tip of his nose when he was too engrossed in his reading to notice. He made tea with exactly a quarter cup of almond milk, and insisted that it was good despite the disheartening faded color. He had gone out of his way to edit  Ragnor’s book and be a consultant for him, mostly because he was his friend, and not just as a way to repay him for his promotion. 

It’s an early morning in late March when Alec decides that the early morning is his favorite time of the day. His head was pounding, and his throat was dry. As soon as he sat up, he heard a voice in his head reminding him of how badly he was in need, because something was missing. Slowly, he swings his legs around on the mattress, and spots his phone lighting up with several messages. He checks them, ignoring how the light made his eyes sting. His mother, who for the last week had been trying to convince her boss to let Alec keep his intern job after missing too many days. He skims through the messages, only reading the last one informing him that he had indeed been fired, and didn’t need to pick up his stuff because she had cleared out his desk. He wants to care. He knows he should, any adult is supposed to be concerned when they lose a job. But he doesn’t. Instead, he finds his coat, folded and sitting on the dresser. He unzips the pocket on the inside, and pulls out a small bag of white powder, all too familiar. As quiet as he can, he opens it and carefully pours out two small lines onto the top of his hand. He snorts them, anxiously anticipating Magnus to walk in at any moment, but he doesn’t.

As Alec stands still for a moment, trying to recompose himself, he can hear Magnus humming from the kitchen. It was from one of records he had played often while he was working in his home office, an old Billie Holiday album.  _ Solitude.  _ Something Magnus had grabbed from his mother’s room the night she died, just before he was taken to his first foster home. Alec walks down the hallway, his steps barely noticeable. For a moment, he stands, leaning against the wall, watching Magnus. The other man was already dressed, wearing an old thrifted sweater that hung over the waist of his worn jeans. His hair was neatly combed through, tucked behind his ears. He hadn’t shaved, letting his dark stubble frame his jawline. The sun was still rising, the orange beams creeping into the room through the curtains, illuminating his warm, glowing skin. His face was peaceful, his eyes focused on placing a tea bag in his mug. The tension that often showed itself creased in his narrowed eyebrows had yet to appear. He looked so peaceful, as if his true self was showing. The person he was when he was alone, hidden from the rest of the world. It was a sight that Alec had only caught glimpses of during their relationship, but one he would never forget. Magnus, early in the morning, humming to an old song and making tea.

As Magus pours the almond milk, carefully watching the amount, it splashes onto his hand. He licks the drop off of his thumb, and looks up to see Alec. “You’re up early,” He says, his voice quiet. Alec steps out into the living space, approaching the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“I just woke up, I guess,” Alec says. He sits at the counter across from Magnus, and for a moment their eyes meet. Alec knew his pupils were dilated, shining black in the early sunlight. Magnus’s were distant, as if he was looking through Alec.

“You know, it’s funny,” Magnus says. “You used to move around so much in your sleep. Stealing the blanket in the middle of the night, kicking me, mumbling to yourself. I grew to get used to it, and slept through it. But recently you’ve just been... still as a rock. On your back, facing up at the ceiling. It’s ironic,” he slides a mug to Alec, filled with black coffee, his usual. Alec stares down at the beverage, watching it steam in front of him. “Your body looks so peaceful, yet your mind is the most loud I’ve ever seen it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Alec asks. His hand cups the mug, feeling the heat radiating off the ceramic, but he doesn’t drink it.

“I’m not oblivious, Alec,” Magnus says. “I should have said something the day I got back from London, but I’m the same as I was before. As a child, I knew something was wrong with my mother when she was using. Sure, she smiled and laughed with me, played pretend and read to me. But she wasn’t fully there. I just didn’t  _ want  _ there to be something wrong, so I convinced myself that there was nothing to be worried about. That the... panicked feeling I felt when she was gone was nothing. It’s been so long that I didn’t realize it at first. You left after dinner the night I got back from London. And after the door closed, I felt this... tightness in my chest. It was so sudden, but I recognized it. The feeling that... something was... wrong.” 

“Magnus,” Alec starts, unsure of what to say. “It’s not-” 

“It’s not about me?” Magnus interrupts. “Of course, it isn’t, Alec. My mother said the same thing to me once. But... even though you may not realize it, it is. At least, partly.” Alec opens his mouth to say something, but Magnus keeps speaking. “There’s something inside you that feels like it needs to be fulfilled. It never has, and maybe it never will... and when it becomes too painful to feel... that sense of yearning goes to something else. I found the cocaine in your coat pocket, Alec.” 

“Magnus, please, just...” Alec starts, but he’s unsure of what to say. He knew he wasn’t the only one who had felt the distance between them getting bigger in the past month. “I... I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I know you don’t. I don’t want to lose you either,” Magnus says. He reaches forward, grabbing Alec’s hand and squeezing it. “I love you, Alec. More than I’ve ever loved another person before. Probably more than I ever will. But...” 

“I can change,” Alec says. “I’ll try to stop, I’ll-”

“It’s not that simple, Alec. We both know that. The drugs aren’t the source of the problem,” Magnus takes a deep breath. “I’ve been through a lot of therapy in my life, Alec. It didn’t heal all of my problems, but I did learn one thing. About how... self-care can be painful. And make you feel selfish.” 

“Magnus, please.” 

“I’ve watched the most important person in my life die from this before, Alexander,” Magnus says, his voice cracking. His eyes grow wet, and Alec wants nothing more than to reach forward and wipe the tears from his face. But instead, Magnus lets go of his hand, and Alec felt further away from the other man than he ever had before. 

“You’re... breaking up with me?” Alec asks, his voice higher pitched, quiet.

“There’s something you’ve been hiding. Not just from me, from everyone. I could tell from the day you called me, after the GED class was over. Whatever it is, until you confront it... you're never going to change, Alec. And I can’t take watching another person I love waste away. I got offered a job working with other anthropologists at the Jeffersonian this summer. I wasn’t going to take it, but...” he sighs, and steps back, away from the counter. “It’s for the best.”

Alec looks at the other man, his jaw clenched. He knew he should be feeling the effects of the drugs. But he felt totally grounded, and still. Their eyes meet, one last time, and Alec feels his hand twitch, yearning to cup Magnus’s cheek, and assure him it would be okay. But even though he didn’t want to believe it, he knew Magus was right. Magnus had always been right. Without a word, Alec walks back to the bedroom and puts back on his clothes, leaving the coffee to get cold on the counter. As he walks out of the apartment, he closes the door behind him gently, listening to it click. On the other side, he waits for Magnus’s footsteps, running after him, taking it all back. But instead, there’s just silence. 

_ Alec tapped his heel against the floor of the subway car uncontrollably. An older man looked at him, eyebrow raised, but Alec ignored him. It had become a habit recently. At first, he thought it was just a way his body was using the extra energy he got when he used, but now he realized he was just paranoid constantly. It had only gotten worse in the last couple of months. His parents would talk in their bedroom, and although Alec couldn’t hear the words, he knew they were talking about him. He was their failure of a son after all. His grades had slipped too much in the last couple of years that even a large donation attached to the Lightwood name wouldn’t get him into an Ivy League. This completely derailed his father’s plan for him. Alec made sure to stay scarce, getting home just late enough that his father was asleep, and conveniently being in the shower in the morning just as his father was leaving for work. He could see his mother’s disappointment too, but she showed it differently. An over the shoulder gaze, or her hand lingering on his shoulder just long enough.  _

_ Next to him, Simon didn’t fare much better. He looked like he hadn’t brushed his hair in weeks, and it stuck out from his head in all directions. His skin was dry with red blotches on his cheeks that only exaggerated the paleness of his skin. He had always been wary in public, but it was worse than Alec had ever seen. Every time a person so much even glanced in their direction, Simon would flinch and look down. He was always looking down. But, despite how ashamed he may have been about their habit, he had his own issues to suppress. _

_ “ _ _ This sucks _ _ ,” Simon mutters, his voice hoarse. Alec realizes he doesn’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, maybe in the morning? “I’ve never been so bored in my entire life.”  _

_ “At least your mom notices when you do something wrong,” Alec says. “I had three Ds on my transcript last fall and my parents don’t know because they never bothered to return the calls from the school. They probably thought I was up for some scholarship.”  _

_ Simon laughs, and Alec lightly punches him in the shoulder. “What? It’s just... funny. You used to be obsessed with school.”  _

_ “So were you.”  _

_ “Well, now we know there’s more to life,” Simon says, frowning. “You should have seen the look on her face when she realized I lied to her. I swear, her eyes were going to bulge out of her skull. The best part is that she’s so oblivious that she thinks I could have even gotten into Princeton. They would have laughed at my application. And then Rebecca had to sell me out, since she has to be so perfect all the time. She just thinks I’ve been smoking weed, though.”  _

_ “It’s not a lie,” Alec says. The subway car comes to a stop, and they get off. Outside, the platform is crowded, and the two boys struggle to get up the stairs, pushing around the large crowd of people. _

_ Once they’re on the sidewalk, Simon continues. “You’re lucky, you know. Getting to be the older sibling. You get to set the bar, instead of living up to it.”  _

_ “More like I have to follow the bar my father set for me,” Alec says. _

_ “I get that, but I mean... it’s like I have to measure up to Rebecca’s social life too. She has a ton of friends, so I’m supposed to have more friends than her. She’s engaged and the only girlfriend I’ve ever had was Clary in elementary school. And worse, I have to watch her fall in love with Jace, of all people. When I’m right here.”  _

_ “Tragic,” Alec says sarcastically, but on the inside his chest clenches. It was a pain they shared, but Simon had no idea. They approach Jace’s apartment building, and Alec feels the familiar sense of need as they walk up the stairs. He had his own small stash of drugs at home, but he tried to use it discreetly. If anyone walked in on him, he knew it would all be over. The two boys reach the apartment, music playing inside. It was one of the pop  _ _ punk _ _ bands that Jace was into, which meant Simon and Alec had learned to enjoy it too. Alec knocks, but doesn’t receive a response. He and Simon look at each other, and then he knocks again, louder.  _

_ Just as Alec is sure Jace isn’t going to open the door, it creaks open, and his mouth falls agape when he sees the state of the apartment. The couch was on its back, and the T.V screen was shattered. Broken glasses scattered the carpet, some of it stained with blood. “Well, are you just  _ _ gonna _ _ stand there or are you coming in?” Jace asks, his eyebrows narrowed in anger. Hesitantly, Alec and Simon join him inside and he slams the door behind him.  _

_ “Jace... what happened?” Alec asks, looking around. His eyes fall on Jace’s hand, wrapped in a bloody towel. “That looks bad.” _

_ “Because it is bad. Things are bad,” Jace says, his voice muffled by the music. _

_ “What?” Simon asks, making a face. Jace rolls his eyes and disappears into his bedroom for a moment, turning the music down.  _

_ “Look, my dad... had debts,” Jace says. “And he’s been AWOL for the last couple of weeks, so the collectors came to deal with me instead,” he gestures to the mess of an apartment. “And I didn’t have the money, obviously.”  _

_ Simon bites his lip for a moment. “If you needed money, why didn’t you just say so? You know both of our families are rich. Our parents wouldn’t even notice if it was missing.” _

_ “It’s about more than that,” Jace says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but instead takes a deep breath, looking down at his hand. “Fuck,” he hisses. _

_ “We can still help,” Alec says. “We’ll help you clean up first, and then we can figure this out.” Jace shrugs, and opens a drawer, revealing a box of trash bags. Alec nods to Simon, and follows Jace to the bathroom. Simon mutters something to himself as he starts carefully picking up the glass around him.  _

_ In the bathroom, Alec turns on the water, feeling it until it’s lukewarm. Jace places his hand under the stream, clenching his jaw at the pain. As the dried blood rinses away. Alec sees the wound more clearly. The gash was long, spreading all the way across his palm, and deep enough to need stitches. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with my shit,” Jace says, watching as Alec went through the nearly bare cabinets searching for medical supplies. Alec thinks back to the day he heard Jace’s father beating him. He had never told Simon about it, or anyone. He pulls a small bottle of vodka out from the back of the cabinet, raising an eyebrow. Jace laughs, smirking at his friend. “I stashed that when I was fourteen and forgot about it.”  _

_ Alec shakes his head, opening the small bottle. His eyes meet Jace’s as he slowly pours the liquid onto his hand. Jace cries out in pain, shutting his eyes, and Alec looks away. After prom, he had decided that he was going to try and channel his feelings for his friend elsewhere. It has harder than he thought. “You’re  _ _ right-handed _ _ ,” Alec says, dabbing at the wound with a cotton ball.  _

_ “Yeah. What about it?”  _

_ “You were going to fight back, weren’t you?” Alec asks, raising an eyebrow. “You grabbed something they had broken, for a weapon.” He starts applying one of the many band-aids he needed to dress the cut.  _

_ Jace scoffs, watching as his friend meticulously places the bandages over his palm. “I... I was in my room, smoking. They knocked on the door. I thought it was you just getting here early. There were three guys, I didn’t know them. They started asking where my Dad was. When I told them I didn’t know, things got... tense. I told them I didn’t have the money. That’s when they started breaking stuff. Threatening me and my Dad.”  _

_ “Jace...” Alec starts. _

_ “I’m not stupid. I knew I couldn’t take those guys in a fight, and even if I did, I would only make things worse for my dad. Most of the stuff they broke is replaceable anyway. But then, one of them grabbed the vase off the table. It was my mom’s. I tried to stop them, but one guy pushed me, and when I was watching it break, I just got so... angry. I grabbed whatever was on the floor next to me. I wanted to stab the guy right in his face. But I... couldn’t. I can’t be like him, Alec.”  _

_ Alec’s face softens as he looks at his friend as he realizes they shared one common goal in life. To not end up like their fathers. “What are you going to do?” _

_ Jace shrugs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “Skip town I guess,” he says. “If they can’t find me, then-” _

_ “You can’t just leave, Jace. Graduation is soon. You’ve been mentioning you wanted to go to some community college classes. And...” he takes a painful breath. “Clary’s here.”  _

_ “You’re right,” Jace says. He picks up the small vodka bottle and chugs what’s left of it, before tossing it into the trash can. It lands in the metal bin with a crash, and he flinches at the sound. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks over at Alec. “I know it’s the easiest way, but I can’t take your money. Or Simon’s. I need to get it myself. I need to prove my dad wrong.”  _

_ “Jace, you can’t let yourself get dragged into this mess. It’s his problem.”  _

_ “Everything he’s ever done has been my problem, too. After my mom died, he... changed. He drank more. Lost most of his jobs. Lost his temper too easily. And he takes it all out on me, because he thinks I’m weak, Alec. He thinks he’s... broken me down. But he hasn’t. I’m stronger than he thinks I am, because he made me this way,” he walks out of the bathroom, and Alec follows him into his father’s bedroom. He opens the dresser and pulls out the gun.  _

_ “Jace, no,” Alec says. He didn’t know what Jace had in mind, but he knew whatever it was, it was going to end badly. Most of their bad ideas came from Jace.  _

_ “It’ll be easy,” Jace says. “Look, I’ve borrowed from this convenience store before. The owner barely pays attention to anyone. There aren’t even cameras. I’ll wait until we’re alone, and then show him the gun. I’ll just take whatever’s in the register, and then dip. I’ll be gone before he even calls the police.”  _

_ “Jace, you can’t just rob someone,” Alec says, his eyes widening. “That’s... that’s a crime. You aren’t a criminal.”  _

_ “It was bound to happen, Alec,” Jace says. “Look at my life. I got into a fancy school on a scholarship and screwed it up. I’m barely graduating. I’m a horrible boyfriend to Clary, we’re just going to break up eventually. We both know that I’m just going to grow up into some criminal asshole, just like my dad. Might as well stop delaying the inevitable.”  _

_ “That’s not true,” Alec says. “Just because you’re in one tight spot doesn’t mean you have to stoop low and-”  _

_ “There it is,” Jace interrupts, his voice rougher. Angrier. _

_ “What?”  _

_ “The difference between you and me,” Jace says. “I have to figure out how to pay back these guys for my dad. I have to. Or who knows what they’ll do to us. Look, things have never been easy for us, okay? My dad had money issues before he and my mom got together. Neither of them are from wealthy families. We’ve always just been scraping by. It’s something you wouldn’t understand.”  _

_ Alec opens his mouth to respond, but stops himself. He follows Jace back out to the living room, where Simon had almost collected most of the glass. Together, they finish cleaning the floor. As they push the couch back up, Alec looks at Jace. “Let us help you,” he says. _

_ “I already told you, I’m not a charity case.”  _

_ “No, I mean... let us help you get the money. It would be safer if there were more of us than him anyway.”  _

_ “Alec, you don’t need to-”  _

_ “We’re your best friends,” Alec says. “We want to be there for you. Right, Simon?”  _

_ Simon looks between his two friends, and nods. “What exactly am I agreeing to?”  _

_ “We can’t do this,” Simon says. His eyes were glazed over, and while he was talking to Jace and Alec, his gaze was set on the broken TV screen. “This is... crazy. Someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t understand why you can’t just borrow money from one of us.”  _

_ “I already told you, it isn’t that simple,” Jace responds. He was sitting on the floor, his knees resting against his chest. The side of his mouth twitches as he shuts his eyes. Alec watches as he rubs his temples, trying to ease the tension in his head. _

_ “We aren’t criminals, Jace,” Simon says. “Stealing a candy bar when the cashier isn’t looking is a lot different than robbing him at gun point. Even if you do get away with it, what good will it do? You’re just paying off your dad’s debt.”  _

_ “I’m showing him what he created,” Jace says. “That I’m just like him. The person who he hates the most,” he stands up and starts pacing around the room, his body swaying. _

_ As Simon and Jace kept arguing, Alec lied on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His arm was still tingling, but he reaches over, grabbing the spoon anyway. The voices of his friends just became background noise as he flipped on the lighter, melting the substance on the metal spoon in his hand. He sucks in a deep breath as he picks up the syringe, an all too familiar feeling. As he lines up the sharp edge with his vein, he waits until he can’t hold his breath anymore, and then presses his thumb down on the syringe. It stings for a moment, and he sighs, feeling the end of his mouth curling into a half smile. Within a couple of minutes, he feels his mind starting to fade in and out of reality. One moment, he’s watching Simon and Jace arguing a few feet from him, but when he closes his eyes, he sees Jace’s smile. His father’s disappointing gaze as his eldest son ignored him. He imagines the shock his parents would have if they knew that for the last few years, he had been sneaking away to hook up with their coworker. But then the thoughts of Underhill and his parents or Jace all went away, and a creeping feeling crawled up his spine. The feeling that nothing he did mattered. The feeling he tried to hide from himself. But he knew it was true.  _

_ Alec’s eyes focus again, on Simon and Jace in a heated conversation. Their bodies both swayed and their eyes were dark. He moves to stand up, nearly falling over, but he catches himself on his hands and knees. With a groan, he grabs at the wall, and forces himself up. His body feels like it’s falling again, but he realizes he’s standing completely still. Jace mutters something and walks out of the room, returning wearing an oversized hoodie that conveniently fell over his back pocket, hiding the outline of the firearm. Alec walks back over to his friends, each step feeling like it would take all of his energy. Jace gives him a look, his face shifting in and out of focus. “Are you okay, Alec? You don’t have to come.”  _

_ “I’m fine,” Alec mutters, and his own voice echoes in his head. Simon says something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. It sounded like words flowing together. They all needed the drugs to survive, but Alec knew in the last month he had become the worst one. Jace shakes his head, but Alec reaches forward, resting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Jace. Let’s just... get it over with.”  _

_ Jace stares at him for a moment, and then moves to the front door of the apartment, leaving Alec’s hand hanging in the air. Alec’s chest falls at the motion, and then he sucks in a deep breath through his teeth. “You better be able to stand upright, dude,” Jace says to Alec as they walk down the stairs. Alec doesn’t' respond, instead focusing on how his hand glides down the railing.  _

_ The walk to the store is short, just a few blocks. As they got closer, Alec could have sworn every person they walked past was gawking at him. He crosses his arms, trying to hide himself, his joints aching. He knew the store was just a small family-owned place, but when they walk in, it feels like it goes on for miles. The store owner doesn’t pay them any mind, instead reading a magazine. Jace lingers by the counter while Simon and Alec turn away from him at first, walking down the aisle toward the freezer. Alec spots his reflection in the glass. His skin was pale, showing the light purple outline of his veins. He knew he had lost weight, but he hadn’t realized how much his cheek bones stuck out. The skin around his eyes was a dark blue. For a moment he reaches a shaking hand up to his face, tucking a piece of greasy hair behind his ear.  _

_ And then, his chest coils in a feeling he had never had before. Tears build in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. His breathing gets heavier, and he clenches his fists. For a moment, he’s confused. He wonders if he had finally gone too far with the drugs. Was his heart going to stop? Was this it? Death in a rundown freezer section, his body collapsing by the ice cream sandwiches? He closes his eyes, trying to hide from his reflection, but he can’t. In his face, he saw his father’s dark eyes. The crooked smile his mother used to give him when he was a child, watching as he stumbled around with his sister. But there was something different behind his eyes. Something missing. He opens his eyes again, looking at himself, and the question he had been pushing away for so long comes to mind. Why hadn’t they noticed something was wrong with him? Was he really that invisible?  _

_ Behind him, Alec hears Jace’s voice calling out, accompanied by a deeper voice he had never heard before. When he turns around, he sees his best friend on the floor, the gun slide across the tiles under him. The store owner stands above him, his fist still drawn back, his bushy eyebrows narrowed in anger. Alec’s feet move without him meaning to, and the feeling in his chest only gets worse. Things go black for a moment, and he almost thinks he passed out. But then he hears Jace’s voice yelling his name. Alec blinks, and realizes that he’s on top of the store owner, his fists bloody with the man’s blood. He gasps and falls back, landing on the floor next to the store owner. His eyes widen at the sight of the man’s face, his nose swollen and bloody. Jace’s eyes meet with his, wide and shaking, he realizes that his friend was scared. The boy he had admired so much for his confidence, for how he carried himself with such swagger, was scared. Of him. _

_ It feels like it happens in slow motion. The store owner, still bleeding from his nose, sits up, reaching for the gun next to Alec. He’s yelling something, and Jace is yelling something, but it all just sounds like white noise to Alec. It’s then when he realizes what he was feeling in his chest just moments before. An uncontrollable sense of anger, more than Alec had ever felt before. A rage that felt new to him, but came with a question he didn’t know the answer to. Had he always been this angry at the world? At his parents? Or was he angry at himself for not being the person he was supposed to be?  _

_ “What the fuck?” Jace yells, his voice cutting into Alec’s thoughts. “Oh shit, fuck. Jesus. Is he?” the blonde boy crawls forward, his jeans smearing the slowly growing puddle of blood on the floor next to the store owner. Alec snaps out of his trance, his eyes falling on the state of the man. He was lying face up on the floor, his eyes open, no life behind them. His chest was covered in blood, pooling beneath him. “Fuck, dude, what did you do? He’s... he’s dead. He’s fucking dead.”  _

_ Alec looks at Jace once more, and then follows his gaze up, to Simon. Simon’s hands were shaking more than they ever had, and the gun falls to the floor, landing with a clank that Alec would never forget. “I... I didn’t mean... he was going to... I...” Simon stutters, falling to his knees. He stares at the man, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. Alec slides his body backward until he’s sitting against the counter. He looks at the man once again, and then down at his shoes, noticing how they had become stained from the splatter of the bullet hitting the man’s chest. “What do we do? What did I do?”  _

_ “Fuck, man. You...” Jace starts, looking between Alec and Jace. “We need to get out of here.”  _

_ “No,” Simon says. “What if he’s going to be okay? We could do CPR, or-”  _

_ “He’s fucking dead!” Jace yells. Outside the window, they hear a woman scream. “Okay, okay, we need a plan.”  _

_ “What plan, Jace? I just...” Simon starts, his voice cracking. _

_ “There’s no cameras in here,” Jace says. “This is... I... I did it.” Simon and Alec look at him, confusion growing on their faces. “He came at me. I... I freaked out. I punched him a few times. He threatened to call the cops, and reached behind the counter. I thought he was getting a gun, so I shot him. You two were just... here because I made you.”  _

_ “What?” Simon chokes out. “But that’s not what-”  _

_ “Just go with it,” Jace yells. Outside, they could hear police sirens getting closer, and a crowd had formed outside the building, people screaming and freaking out. “I’m the one who dragged you both into my shit anyway. My dad’s a felon, they won’t have a problem putting me away. Things were supposed to end up this way for me.”  _

_ “Jace, you can’t-”  _

_ “Think about it, Simon,” Jace interrupts, his face turning red. “You two are just... collateral damage. I didn’t want to be like my dad. I wanted to get away from the past, but... there’s no use. I was supposed to just be a piece of shit, just like him. I already am. You have potential. You can go on with your lives and pretend like you never knew me. Get a real job and... keep things how they’re supposed to be. We’re different, we always were.”  _

_ “But, Jace, I-” _

_ “Just let me make things right,” Jace says, his voice monotone. Simon opens his mouth to respond, but closes it again. Alec could see his chest moving, his breathing becoming short. Tears were already dripping down his cheeks, and his eyebrow was twitching. Red and blue lights blind them as a cop car pulls up, and when they open their doors, Alec can see their guns drawn, pointing in toward the store. Next thing he knows, the door is busted open, and he throws his hands up.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this chapter is so heavy but we're so close to the end!


	16. Alone Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a little long, I had to get through finals. 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: suicidal thoughts, sexual content

In the three weeks after he last saw Magnus, Alec leaves his room only to use the bathroom or go out with Simon. For the most part, they go by in a blur. He lies in his bed, reveling in the fact that he had done something wrong, again. And lost someone he loved, again. He knew to an extent, that his addiction was part of his mental illness. He had learned in therapy that this was something he could not control, but that he was supposed to learn how to adapt to. He thought he could fill the emptiness that he carried with him with Magnus. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that even when they were together, it was still there. Buried deeper down, but never gone.

Every party he goes to with Simon is the same. People he didn’t really know talking, messing around. Drinking. Alec only went so he could hide in the bathroom with his friend. Sometimes they wouldn’t leave the bathroom for an hour, just sitting on the floor in silence. Since hearing about Isabelle and Simon’s relationship, Alec couldn’t help but watch his friend. He could tell that some nights, Simon wanted to go too far. That just one more line would be too much. Watching Simon curled up on the floor, his face sweaty, his eyes twitching, Alec wondered the same as Isabelle. Was his overdose on purpose, or an accident? He knew how it felt to have the guilt eat at you. Often, he thought about that day in the convenience store. The pool of blood, and the gun shot. But the worst thing he thought about, was the sound of the man’s wife and daughter crying in the court room while they were being escorted out. In his haste to somehow get back at his father, he had taken one away from someone else. 

His mother leaves food in his room. Sandwiches, soup, leftovers. Sometimes, she leaves his favorites, from the restaurants surrounding their apartment. One day, exactly twenty-three days after he last saw Magnus- he had been counting- she comes in and sits next to him on his bed. “Honey,” she says, her voice low, and soft. It reminds him of when he was younger and got the flu. She had stayed home and nursed him back to health for a week, feeding him canned soup and watching cartoons with him. “You need to eat. You’ve lost too much weight.” Alec doesn’t answer, instead burying his head into the pillow. “Alexander.” 

Alec groans. He could smell the ham she had brought in, sitting on a plate on his bedside table. How pathetic was he, twenty-six years old and having his mother bring him food in his bedroom? His body felt heavy, he was still high from the line he did just before she came in. He was growing more of a tolerance. Now, the high only lasted for twenty-minutes, but it was long enough for his mind to blank for a couple hours. He feels his mother’s hands on his back, massaging the tense muscles. Her palm brushes against the outline of his shoulder blade before traveling to the base of his neck. For a moment, her fingers linger on the vertebrae, and he hears a hitch in her breathing. Alec pulls away, curling up on the other side of the bed. “Thanks,” he whispers, his voice low in his throat.

“How did you get so... tense?” Maryse asks. He feels her weight shift on the bed, and then she stands up, hovering over him. “Maybe I should schedule you a session with my  masseuse ? Or you could start coming to yoga again? It would help relieve your muscles. I know a-” 

“Sleeping on a metal bed for six years gave me a bad back,” Alec says, his voice slightly louder. Maryse walks around to the other side of the bed, holding the plate a food. A plain sandwich with just cheese and tomato. 

“Alexander, sweetie...” Maryse holds out the plate, the sandwich inches from Alec’s face. “Please. Just... for me. Please. I know begging isn’t the best way... my therapist even doesn’t know what to do-” 

“With someone who can’t be helped?” Alec interrupts. He forces his body to sit up, reeling in how his head was spinning for a moment. “You never seemed to have an issue with that before.” 

Maryse sighs, placing the sandwich on the desk behind her. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Alec. I can’t handle it anymore. I... I am so tired of wishing how I could have done better in the past. I want to do better now before you... before...” she trails off, looking away from her son. Alec looks up at her expectantly, raising an eyebrow. “Alexander, if you don’t start fighting this... you will die. This is a battle you will lose. It doesn’t matter how much of a tolerance you think you have, or how much you think you need it. We both know this doesn’t end well. And I...” her voice cracks. “I don’t want it to end this way.” 

“Just forget it, Mom,” Alec says. He knew his mother was trying to reach out to him, the same way Isabelle had. The same way Magnus had been too afraid to. And as much as he wanted to do it, to throw away the drugs he kept in his room, and to walk out with his mother to a rehab center, or back to his therapist, he liked the high too much. He needed the high more than he wanted to admit. And he knew if he wanted it to stay that way, he needed to get out of the apartment. Even his mother’s presence only made the guilt he always felt even worse.

“You must miss Magnus...” Maryse says, her hand resting again on Alec’s shoulder. “I know what it’s like to end a relationship. You must be-” 

“I said to forget it,” Alec snaps, pulling away from her. They stare at each other for a moment, and Maryse’s face falls. She looks down, and then back up at her son. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just want... I just want things to be quiet, okay? I just want quiet. I’ve never gotten... quiet. Just... nothing. And I...” he clenches his jaw and swings his legs off the mattress. “Get out.” 

“Alexander-”

“Please, Mom. Just... leave me alone. Please.” Maryse looks at Alec, and the look in her eyes was something he had never seen before. She always knew how to get what she wanted. Not only in her work, but at home. If she wanted one of her children to eat a vegetable, they would. The best hotel room for their family vacation, with the best view. A reservation even if there was a waiting list. Even when Alec had gone to court, she had made sure Simon’s mother would get them the easiest sentence. But now, the fire that she had in her gaze, was gone. As she walked out of the room, Alec wondered if he had finally broken her. If she was finally giving up. 

Alec showed up to Simon’s apartment with a backpack packed with a few pairs of underwear, sweatpants, and a t-shirt he had worn every week in high school. Simon didn’t ask why he had come over, but he knew that Alec could be staying with him. His mother was out of state often enough that she wouldn’t notice, and when she did come home, they would move to Raphael’s small apartment. At first, it felt like time was moving slower. Alec had grown accustomed to seeing Max and his mother every day. He was used to their worried stares, the hushed talking and their hands on his shoulder. But the more time Alec spent with Simon, the more time he spent too high to even get off the floor. The days started moving too fast for him to count.

Raphael and Simon often bickered when they were coming down from their high. From what Alec could hear, Raphael at one point had a thing for Isabelle. Even though they had been broken up for over a year, it still offended Simon. Alec hated when they argued. It reminded him of the weekends when his parents would be home, arguing in their room, oblivious to anything their kids were doing.

“You don’t understand what it’s like to have everything taken away from you. You’ve been privileged your entire life. She understands that.” 

“Well, she’s dating someone else anyway. When we broke up you let me cry on your shoulder, and what was it all for?  So you could try and date her when I was done?” 

“You’re the one who pushed her  away. Isabelle needs someone who isn’t selfish.” 

“Selfish? I bought you almost everything you own. I got you your job, and...” 

With a sigh, Alec turns on the T.V., and starts to watch the news. Most of it didn’t make sense to him, his brain was still too foggy. When Magnus’s face pops up on the screen, he thinks that he’s hallucinating at first. He blinks, and realizes it was in fact reality. On screen, Magnus was being interviewed about something with the Jeffersonian and artifacts that had recently been discovered. Alec couldn’t care less about the topic of the interview, instead he focused on Magnus’s appearance. He had gotten a haircut, neat and slicked back, out of his face. His suit was more formal, a bland brown, with a dark green tie. No floral patterns, or embroidery. When he spoke, it was slow, careful. When Alec had listened to Magnus talk about his work, it was always overdone. He talked too much, and inserted his opinion into everything. His eyes would light up, and the side of his mouth would curve into a smile. What Alec missed most was how Magnus’s hands would move with his expressions as he told his stories. Alec watches as on-screen Magnus gestures to one of the artifacts, his hands painfully still. 

For a moment, Alec wonders if this act was because Magnus was sad. It had been six weeks since they broke up, and Alec couldn’t stop thinking of the other man. Was Magnus just pretending to be fine? Was he acting like a muted version of himself because he missed Alec? No. He must just be putting on a persona for the news station. Alec knew how self-conscious he was around his peers. He was trying to seem older. In fact, surely, he was thriving with Alec. He didn’t have the dead weight to worry about. He was the successful academic he had always wanted to be. The success story, the boy who made it out of foster care. His mother was too weak, just like Alec was. 

Alec bites his lip and leans forward on the couch, reaching for the bag of white powder sitting on the coffee table. It was sooner than he normally used again after getting high, but he needed the image of Magnus out of his head. He snorts two lines of the powder, ignoring the stinging in his nostril. He takes a deep breath, his mouth dry. Simon and Raphael had stopped arguing. Alec flinches as he hears Raphael slam the door to his bedroom, leaving Simon standing by the couch. Without saying anything, Simon sits next to Alec and empties out the rest of the bag. “Is that Magnus?” he asks, looking at the T.V. Alec doesn’t answer, instead leaning back on the couch, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “You should call him,” Simon says, his voice sounding as if he was a mile away. 

“No,” Alec says, closing his eyes. He had thought about it. Sometimes, he sat with his thumb hovering over Magnus’s number in his phone. But he never could bring himself to do it. He had stopped checking his phone weeks ago. His mother and siblings flooded his inbox with texts and missed calls. Occasionally, he would just respond with a  one-word answer so Maryse knew he was alive.

“Why not?” Simon asks. Alec shrugs, and feels Simon shift on the couch next to him. “You couldn’t tell him, could you? About what happened.” 

“I did my time,” Alec answers, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate anything, much less drank enough water. His body was weak all the time anyway, and it was easy to forget to take care of it. On a subconscious level, he thought that if he didn’t take care of himself, then slowly he could just fade away and not being anyone's problem anymore. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” 

“What do you mean?” Simon asks, his voice louder than it was before. “It matters. It... it’s all I can think about at night.”

Alec opens his eyes and looks over at Simon. He knew what happened that night had been eating at him for years, the same as it did Alec. Nothing could take it back. No matter what they did, a family would be without a father. Alec had learned to live with his guilt, as long as no one knew why he felt that way. “We can’t change anything,” Alec says. “It doesn’t matter how much we want to.” Simon doesn’t respond, instead staring down at the floor. After a few minutes, he stands up and starts pacing the room. Alec could tell by how shaky his hands were that the drugs had kicked in, maybe too much. 

“It’s just not fair,” Simon says. “It doesn’t matter what I do, I still feel guilty. I can’t stop feeling guilty. I... I wish I could take it back. My mom always says remorse is what gets to judges and juries. If I had just sucked it up, and shown them how sorry I was, then maybe... maybe Jace wouldn’t be where he is. I ruined that girl's life when I... and Jace’s life...” Alec zones out as his friend continues mumbling. He nearly falls asleep, Simon’s voice miles away. 

“There’s only one way to fix it,” Simon says, his voice deadpan. Alec looks at him, and realizes outside it had gotten dark. How long had he been talking to himself? The carpet showed a short trail where Simon had dragged his feet, and Alec watches as his friend disappeared around the corner. 

For a few minutes Alec just sits on the couch, staring blankly at the T.V. Magnus wasn’t on the screen anymore. Instead, it was the uninteresting weather report. But he couldn’t help it, the image of Magnus, clean cut, talking on the screen was burned in his mind. He opens his phone, his finger hovering over the other man’s number. Just as he’s about to hit dial, another text from his mother pops up. His eyes fall to the forty-seven missed calls from her, and he sighs. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop asking himself if Magnus really was happy, or if it was just for the screen. Had their break up been coming anyway, even if Alec hadn’t relapsed? Maybe Magnus was better off without him. He was in a completely different world than Alec. He always had been. It must have been out of sympathy that he even considered dating Alec in the first place.

Even though mind was still foggy and his body still felt weak, Alec opens up one of the apps on his phone and starts messaging with a couple other men. After a few minutes, he gets an address, and heads out the door, leaving behind the quiet apartment. Outside, the air was still warm from the day, and for a moment he stares at the last few seconds of the sunset just barely lingering above the horizon. Around him, people shuffled through in a crowd, some still dressed in suits from work, others showing off their skin, tan from the summer heat. Alec had been inside so much in the past month that he barely realized the weather outside. As he starts walking to the nearby apartment, he finds himself missing the orange jump suits of Rikers. In the real world, it was easy to judge someone by what they were wearing. Many times, his parents had critiqued anyone underdressed in the expensive restaurants they used to frequent. In prison, it didn’t matter who you were, or who you wanted to be. You just had a number, and it was easy to blend in with the crowd. Alec missed being able to be forgotten. 

Once Alec gets to the apartment building, he slips in behind someone and takes a sharp turn to the stairwell before the security at the desk can see him. He walks up the stairs slowly, dragging his feet behind him. The further up he got, the more he realized that he was starting to come down from his high, which meant it would become harder to avoid himself. The man who answers the apartment door is around Alec’s age, tall with neatly parted blonde hair. Alec wasn’t exactly sure of his name, Logan, maybe? Lucas? Not that it mattered, after their brief introduction Alec was pulled into the bedroom.

Since before his stay in prison, Alec had taught himself how to turn his brain off. As he got older, he learned that the touch of someone else made it easier. He could feel somewhat useful, forget about himself for a short while, and usually the ending wasn’t too bad. The other man’s hands are rough as they roam Alec’s body, hastily pulling off his ill-fitting clothes. His breath was hot on the back of Alec’s neck, and Alec buried his face in the pillow, shutting his eyes. After a few minutes, Alec pushes himself up, turning his head to make sure the other man couldn’t kiss him. He slides off the side of the bed, the smooth sheets gliding against his bare chest. His knees hit the ground, the pain dull, and within seconds he feels hands on the back of his head, pushing his face down.

After a few minutes, Alec feels his hair being pulled up, and he climbs on top of the man, straddling his lap. The next fifteen minutes went by quickly, and Alec closed his eyes, blocking out everything else on his mind. It was better than he thought it would be for a hookup planned over an app. But it was dirty, and lacking any form of the emotion Alec had grown so used to when he was in bed with Magnus. As the other man left the room to get Alec something to wash off with, Alec stared out the window, looking at the blinking lights of the evening city. He felt a growing ache in his chest, his mind drifting back to the slow mornings where Magnus would kiss his body all over, appreciating it in a way that Alec could never understand. 

As soon as he can, Alec pulls his clothes back on and hastily walks out the door with a quick goodbye. His body felt relaxed, and the tension he had been building up for weeks was finally gone, but his mind was all over the place. He knew afterward he would feel gross, but instead he felt like he had cheated on Magnus somehow. Even though they weren’t together, and hadn’t been for weeks, it still felt wrong to be with someone else. He tells himself that it was just sex, it was something he was used to doing to forget about his life for a while. It had always been more of a tool rather than a source of pleasure. But as he walked down the street back to Simon’s, he realized something he had been fearing. That Magnus had changed him. It was for the better, at least Alec had thought that’s how he was supposed to see it. But instead, he despised it, because it meant he was unsure if he would ever be able to get over him. 

The light turns red at the crosswalk, and Alec stops, looking down at his phone. He scrolls past the missed calls and messages from his family and clicks on Magnus’s number again. If Magnus had changed him, could he have done the same? Alec looks between his phone and the street a few times, and then sighs. How could he even consider calling Magnus when less than an hour ago he had been in bed with someone else? He thinks back to their first fight, after Dorothea had alluded to Magnus’s infidelity, and how Magnus had hated being judged for having many bed partners before Alec. Just as Alec decides that it doesn’t matter, and that he should call the other man, his phone rings. He reads the name, and then answers on the last ring. “Raphael?”

“Where are you?” Raphael asks through the phone, his voice clearly distressed, his breathing shallow. 

“Out,” Alec answers, and the light turns green. He crosses with the crowd of people, his body already getting tender from his hook up. 

“You need to get back here right now, Simon-” Raphael pulls his phone away from his face, and in the background, Alec could hear another voice mumbling. “Simon’s having some kind of manic episode, and I can’t get him to calm down. He won’t stop talking to himself, and he’s shaking, and-” 

“I’m on way,” Alec says, picking up his pace into a run. He pushes past a couple of people, nearly knocking them over, but he ignores their complaints as he rounds the corner. His body was screaming at him to stop moving so fast, his lungs burned and his legs ached, but he ignores it, clearing the next few blocks as quickly as he could. At the apartment building he runs up the stairs, his lungs stinging as he struggled to breath. By the time he reaches the  eighth floor, he feels as if he’s about to fall over, but he forces himself to keep running anyway. 

The door to Simon’s apartment is ajar, and inside Alec could hear him mumbling to himself. He walks in, his eyes falling on Raphael, who is standing against the wall, his eyes wide. Simon looked worse than he had when Alec left just an hour before, his hair knotted and his eyes bloodshot. Raphael looks at Alec, his shoulders falling in relief. “I don’t know what’s happening, I just heard something break in the kitchen, and then the next thing I know he’s freaking out.”

Alec’s eyes fall down to Simon’s hand, dripping blood onto the carpet. His palm was cut open, deep enough that he would need stitches. “Simon?” Alec starts, keeping his voice as calm as he could, despite how much he was panicking on the inside. But Simon ignores him, instead muttering to himself and walking back and forth. “Raphael, call for help.” 

“We can’t,” Raphael says. “They’ll know we’re on-” 

“Just do it,” Alec snaps, and Simon looks over, his eyes meeting with Alecs. Raphael looks between them, contemplating. He groans and pulls out his phone before disappearing down the hallway. “Simon, you need to calm down.” 

“I can’t,” Simon says, his voice shaky. “Alec, I... I’m so tired of everything. I’m tired of living a lie. I... I can’t believe I let myself stoop so low. I used to think that using was okay, because it just hurt me. But... I... I just hurt everyone around me. I’m just a parasite. All I’ve done is taken; I’ve never given back anything to anyone. My own mother can’t stand me. Why do you think she leaves on work so often? It’s because she can’t stand to look at her abomination of a son.” 

“Simon, that’s not true, you-”

“You know it’s true,” Simon interrupts. He stops pacing, instead standing to face his friend. “I killed someone, Alec. I shot him. And he died. You saw it. I killed a father, and I left his daughter and wife alone. Growing up without my dad was the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I did that to someone else,” his voice grows to a yell, and Alec can’t help but watch. His ears were ringing, and all the blood in his body felt like it was rushing to his head. “He didn’t deserve it. I killed him... and in a way, I killed Jace, too. He’s sitting in jail right now because I let him take the fall. I could’ve told the truth, and I didn’t, because I’m just a coward. I always have been.” 

“Simon, you need to sit-” 

“I killed you, too. We were different before. I knew that the more we hung out with Jace, the worse it would get. I know you were vulnerable, Alec. Ever since we were kids. But I still didn’t say anything, I just let myself get sucked in too. I could’ve told someone what was happening. I could have saved all three of us. I let Isabelle feel like it was her fault that she couldn’t fix me. I didn’t even try to get better for her. I just... I used her to feel loved. I could tell she only dated me out of pity,” his voice breaks, and Alec could see tears starting to pool in his eyes. “There’s only one way to make this right, Alec.”

The next few minutes of Alec’s life felt like they were in slow motion. His ears were ringing, as if an alarm was being held up right next to his ear. His body felt heavier than usual, moving with more energy than it had left. Simon runs down the hall, toward the bathroom. Alec’s legs move on their own, pushing him forward, following the other man in hot pursuit. They pass Raphael, who drops his phone and steps out of the way, backing up into the bedroom. Once Alec reaches the bathroom, he’s met with the image of Simon screwing the cap off of an orange prescription bottle. Just as he’s about to pour the pills into his mouth, Alec surges forward, tackling him down to the tiles. They land with a loud thud, and the pills scatter around them, bouncing and rolling around. Simon rips himself from Alec’s grip, pushing him back against the cabinet, and starts grabbing what he can from the floor. Alec rolls over him again, pinning down his wrists, the pills still in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Simon yells, his voice hoarse. “Let go of me!” he complains, squirming under Alec’s grip. He was stronger than Alec, and in his panic, he jerks his body, his knee colliding with Alec’s ribs. Alec cries out in pain, falling back again, and watches while Simon scoots back on the smooth floor, and swallows the small number of pills he had in his hand. Despite how exhausted he felt, and how hard his chest was pounding, Alec forces himself up and tackles Simon again, this time resting his knees on the other man’s chest. Simon squirms under him, but can’t get out of the hold. “What is wrong with you? Why won’t you just let me die? I deserve it, I’m a  _ murderer  _ Alec, and a liar, and I-” before he can finish, Alec feels hands pulling him off of the other man.

Two paramedics drag him out of the bathroom and into the hallway, to where Raphael was standing. Raphael holds out a hand, helping Alec up, and when he stands the room starts swaying around him. His chest felt like it was crying out to him, begging him to breathe. Simon yells as he’s also pulled out of the bathroom, but he doesn’t fight their grip on him. Alec watches as his friend is picked up by three paramedics and placed onto a stretcher. “This is for your own good,” one of them says as she straps his arms down at his sides. Alec blinks, slowly, watching as Simon is rolled away from him. He thought back to that night in the store. How he could have saved the owner. He could have stopped Jace from going. He could have stopped Jace’s father from beating him that afternoon in their apartment. At least now, he had saved someone. He was tired of losing the people he cared about. Alec felt the most tired he ever had been. His body felt light, as if it would blow away in a soft breeze. Before he realizes what’s happening, he feels his eyes drift upward, and his body is falling backwards toward the floor. 

_Simon’s mother had assured the two teenagers that the case would be open and shut. She was on a first name basis with the judge. Alec and Simon had no prior offences, their families didn’t have any criminal history. They went to a private school where most of the alumni went to Ivy League schools. They were just the type of people who were followers. They were too scared to say no to Jace. After all, he came from a completely different world than they did. His father was a felon. His mother was no longer with them. It was no surprise that he would follow in the_ _Herondale_ _footsteps_ _. Just because it was how they got by, doesn’t mean it still wasn’t a crime. A crime where a poor family had lost their father._

_ After checking in at the courthouse, Alec excuses himself to the bathroom. It’s empty when he walks in, and he steps to the mirror, staring at himself. That weekend his mother had taken him to her salon. She had watched silently as the barber chopped off the shaggy layers of his hair, styling it neatly to the side. He applied product to it, slicking it back, cut just above his ear. It was the same hair cut his father had in the pictures he had seen of him from college. That night, she had made Alec shave off the permanent five o’clock shadow he had been keeping. The suit was new, tailored and fitted to his body. During the fitting, he took off his shirt, and Maryse turned away. She hadn’t realized how much thinner her son had gotten in the last few months.  _

_ As Alec stares at himself in the mirror, he felt like he was looking at a completely different person. Before leaving, Isabelle had taken him into the bathroom and covered his face in concealer, hiding the dark circles under his eyes and the red blotches on his cheeks. He felt like a carbon copy of his father. It made him feel like an imposter in his own skin.  _

_ The door opens, and Alec watches as Jace walks up to the sink, a few feet away from him. For a moment, they don’t say anything, instead just watching each other's reflection. Jace had cleaned up, wearing the same hand-me-down suit he had worn to prom. The jacket was slightly too big, making his shoulders seem broader than they actually were. His eyes were dull and tired. “I’m sorry about what happened in the holding cell,” Jace says, his voice quiet and monotone. “When you kissed me, I was just... surprised. I should have been  _ _ calmer _ _ about it.”  _

_ “I shouldn’t have done it,” Alec says, his voice almost a whisper. He knew if Simon’s mother or his own mother were here, they would have pulled Alec away from the other boy.  _

_ “Look, whatever happens, just... don’t worry about it. I’m in love with Clary, but I don’t want you to feel bad about yourself over anything. We’re still friends.” Alec doesn’t respond, instead, he looks at Jace one last time before walking out of the room.  _

_ Simon and Alec had been instructed to stay quiet, and to keep their answers short. There was nothing for them to go to trial over. The facts were clear enough. The three boys were responsible for the shooting of the store owner. When the police had arrived on the scene, they all had his blood on them one way or another. Simon, Jace, and Jace’s father’s fingerprints were all on the gun. Once they got to the police station, Simon had a panic attack and nearly collapsed on the floor. His mother arrived first, and paid his bail. Jace and Alec had spent the weekend in a cell together, where they went through withdrawal from the heroin use.  _

_ The room was mostly empty. Simon’s mother had assured that their names and faces wouldn’t be printed in the news outlets. On one side of the room sat Alec’s family. Isabelle sat next to her father. Robert was still, his eyebrows narrowed. Alec could tell Isabelle was confused and nervous. Her leg bounced up and down in her seat, and she sat on her hands to keep herself from biting off her new acrylics. Maryse sat right behind him, leaning forward, but she didn’t look like a worried mother. She looked like a businesswoman ensuring her client didn’t mess anything up. Simon’s sister sat close to them, smiling at him reassuringly. On the other side of the room sat two people Alec had never seen before. The family, he realized. He chooses not to look at them, knowing if he did, the image of them would be engrained in his mind forever. In the back of the courtroom, to his surprise, Jace’s father sat in the last row. He was dressed more casually than anyone else, but Alec could tell he had cleaned himself up.  _

_ Simon’s mother speaks to judge by her first name. Once, years ago, she had told him that crime sentences are all about showing remorse and a need for rehabilitation. You had breached the rules of society, and needed to show that you were ready to take the steps you needed to re-enter. Jace is first to be asked to speak. He didn’t have a lawyer. Alec watches him talk, answering short questions about his past. He seems surprisingly calm, his expression plain and unreadable. _

_ “Mr.  _ _ Herondale _ _ , please describe to the court room what exactly happened the night of the incident,” the judge says. She eyes him, her glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose.  _

_ Jace runs his hand through his hair, pulling it out of his face and sighs. “I needed money as quick as I could get it. Alec and Simon were already at my apartment. They just came with me to make sure I didn’t get hurt.”  _

_ “Please describe what exactly your plan was to get the money.”  _

_ “I had lifted from the store before. Uh...” Jace glances over at the family sitting on the other side of the court room. The mother watched him intently, although her eyes were tinted red from crying. The daughter looked confused, her eyes darting around the room curiously. Jace takes a deep breath and looks back at the judge. “Small stuff. Candy bars. Chips. I knew there weren’t any cameras. I brought the gun just to scare him, but...” he trails off. Alec looks down at his lap, the night replaying in his head. The gunshot. The blood on his shoes. Simon screaming. Police sirens. “He came at me from behind the counter. We got in a fight. I panicked and... and I...” he closes his eyes. “I shot him.”  _

_ Next to Alec, Simon squeezes his knees, his knuckles turning white. His body was completely still, his eyes closed. He takes shallow breaths, and opens his eyes, looking over at his mother. She scowls at Jace, her arms crossed, before resting her hand on Simon’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. Simon looks at Alec, and as their eyes meet, Alec feels his chest tighten. “So, you got in a fight with this man, punching him multiple times in the face. And then you decided to finish the job by shooting him?” Alec’s eyes open wide. He hadn’t thought of it that way. It was an accident. They were high, they panicked. They didn’t know what happened until it was over. _

_ Jace’s jaw clenches and his cheeks tint a faint shade of pink. “Yes, Your Honor,” he says. “I... I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back. But... as my father always says... what’s done is done.”  _

_ Alec looks back at Stephen Herondale. The man is staring at Jace, his expression solemn. It felt confusing for Alec. He had always thought that Jace’s father hated his son. Alec knew he had beaten him. He neglected him. But now, when he looked at him, Alec could sense the feeling of a father mourning his son. Regret. And it made Alec envious. It was wrong, but he had thought to himself that even though Robert wasn’t the best parent, at least he had never laid a hand on his children. Alec looks over at his father, who meets his gaze. But there’s nothing there. His eyes are narrowed they meet Alec’s, expressionless. Alec frowns, and for the first time, looks over at the wife and daughter of the victim.  _

_ After hearing Jace’s short description of what happened, they both had begun crying. It was hushed, quiet, but he could see the way their shoulders slightly moved with each sob. The mother tucks the little girl’s hair behind her ear and pulls her close to her chest before kissing the top of her head. Alec couldn’t remember the last time his parents had been that affectionate. Even after paying for his bail, his mother had simply driven him home in silence. She was disappointed and unsure how her son had even ended up in the middle of a crime. Alec looks between the family, and then back to Jace.  _

_ He hadn’t had to worry about anyone but himself. Jace would take the fall, all he had to do was get through their day in court. His parents could pay Simon’s mother with no issue. He had lived with the lifelong burden of needing to please his father, but that didn’t compare to the struggle his friend had gone through. Dealing with an abusive father with a criminal history, living in a rundown apartment that had been decorated by his deceased mother. He had been so lonely before meeting Alec and Simon. And Alec had felt the same way before meeting him. The last thing he wanted was for Jace to face everything alone. _

_ “Jonathan  _ _ Herondale _ _ ,” the judge says. “Keeping in mind your brief criminal history as a juvenile, and the criminal history of your family, I find it hard to believe that a light punishment will teach you that your actions have consequences. A man is dead because of your carelessness. While I can see why you may be charged with second degree murder, I consider bringing a gun in the first place pre-meditated. For this reasoning, I sentence you to a minimum of twenty-five years for first degree felony murder.” The room is completely silent, all eyes on Jace. But he only nods, his eyes meeting with the judge’s.  _

_ Just as she opens her mouth to continue with Alec and Simon’s punishment, Alec stands up. “Wait,” he says, his voice nearly a whisper. “I... I need to say something,” he raises his voice.  _

_ “Alexander,” Simon’s mother says. “As your lawyer, I strongly suggest you to only answers questions when you are asked, and keep yourself from saying anything out of-”  _

_ “No,” Alec interrupts. “I need to say-”  _

_ “Alexander Gideon Lightwood, sit down right now,” Maryse snaps from behind him. She reaches out and rests her hand on his shoulder, but he pulls away, stepping out from where he’s seated.  _

_ “Mr. Lightwood, I will not have any outbursts in my courtroom,” the judge says. “You should listen to your lawyer.”  _

_ “I’m the one who punched him,” Alec blurts out. “I was high. I didn’t know what I was doing. But I saw him reach for Jace, and the next thing I knew we were on the ground.” The judge looks between Alec and Elaine Lewis, her eyebrow raised. Simon’s mother sighs and stands back, looking at Robert, who stares at his son, his mouth ajar. “I started the fight. Nothing was physical until I started punching him. It’s my fault that everything happened. If I hadn’t... if... if I hadn’t been so careless, he would still be alive right now,” he looks over at the family. “And I’m sorry.”  _

_ The judge waits a moment as everyone looks at Alec. He rubs his knuckles, fingers brushing over the bruises that Isabelle had covered with concealer. Then, he presses down on the inside of his elbow, the skin still bruised from the needles. “Okay,” the judge says, trailing off. She looks over the files in front of her, and then back up at Alec. “So, now, you’re saying that Mr.  _ _ Herondale _ _ has lied to me? His story is not in fact true, and you are actually the person who incited violence?” Alec nods, and rubs his knuckles, revealing the bruises. He holds them up, and the judge sighs. “Ms. Lewis, your clients are making it extremely difficult to look the other way.”  _

_ “Your Honor,” Elaine starts. “My clients are Simon Lewis and Alexander Lightwood. They are both members of prestigious families here in New York. They have never been involved in any kind of trouble before. But the pressure of their lives... applying to colleges, maintaining a good appearance for their families.... has pushed them to releasing the tension in an unconventional way. Drug use is prevalent in our society, and is growing every day among our youth. Under the influence, Alexander Lightwood made an unfortunate mistake. But he isn’t a violent criminal. He needs rehabilitation, not time locked away. Who knows what would have happened if he never threw the first punch? What matters is that a man is dead because Jonathan  _ _ Herondale _ _ shot him. Not because of Alexander’s actions.”  _

_ Simon sinks back further into his sea with his head faces down at the floor. Isabelle stands up and walks out of the room, the door slamming behind her. The judge waits for it to close before continuing. “Mr. Lightwood, I do agree with Ms. Lewis. I do not think that you are a violent criminal, or that you are a danger to society. I see a troubled young man who has gone down a dark path, influenced by a friend,” behind him, Alec can hear his mother sigh with relief. “That being said... the injuries the victim had were severe. A broken nose. Multiple contusions to the jaw. A swollen eye. An act of violence like this comes with consequences. Given your issues with drugs, and your faithfulness to Mr. Herondale... you are sentenced to six years for aggravated assault. I hope this time will make you think long and hard about the type of man you want to become.”  _

_ Behind Alec, he could hear protests from his parents, and judge bangs her gavel. A police officer approaches him, and he holds out his wrists. The hand cuffs are cold against his skin. The room was blurry as he’s escorted out. As he walks past Stephen  _ _ Herondale _ _ , they make eye contact. It’s brief, but it’s enough for Alec to feel better. Even if he would be going to a federal prison, at least he could be there for Jace. He could learn to love him in a different way.  _

_ Time moves quickly after that. Alec sits alone in a room, his hands cuffed, until a guard brings him a generic change of clothes delivered by his mother. It felt surreal. Less than a month ago he was worried about failing a math test, eager to graduate. Now he was getting escorted to the place he would be forced to spend the next six years of his life. His family crowds him as he’s guided out of the building, but there is no crying. Even Isabelle averts her eyes away from her older brother. Outside the courthouse, Alec spots Stephen hugging Jace, massaging the back of his head. He was whispering in his ear, and when he pulls away, he squeezes his son’s shoulders. Then, Alec watches as Jace steps into the van, marked for the Otisville Correctional Facility. It couldn’t be right. It was in Orange County. They had committed a crime in the city. As Alec is pushed into the van marked for Rikers, he looks out the door one last time, his eyes meeting with Simon’s. The van starts moving, and Alec feels a familiar ache in his chest, the same one he often felt late at night in his bedroom.  _ _ Loneliness _ _. _

Alec’s body ached, the top of his head hitting against something hard. His head was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to slice it open and relieve it of the pressure he was feeling. His legs were sore and tired, but he couldn’t remember why. All he remembered was the sight of pills lying on tiles. Had he taken them? He couldn’t remember the last time he had taken his prescription. Dr. Garroway would be angry with him. Then he remembers that he hadn’t seen his therapist in months. After all, he didn’t need him. Therapists are for people who deserve to get better. He shifts his body, and his back aches, the joints feeling like sandpaper rubbing together. His head hits something again as his body bounces for a moment, and he realizes that he’s moving. He was in a car, but whose? 

Then he remembers the ambulance. His body hit the floor. He had passed out, and his heart had been beating faster than it ever had before. Paramedics talked above him, but he couldn’t understand anything they were saying. The hospital lights were too bright. He had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded. Hands touched him, and his forearm stung like it used to when he was a teenager. For a moment, he thinks he must be somewhere with Jace and Simon. But then he realizes it’s an IV. When he opens his eyes, the room is empty. Just as he drifts back into a sleep, he hears voices arguing. 

One he recognized as his mother’s. The other was unfamiliar, a nurse, maybe? A doctor? “Once his fluids are stable again, I’m taking him with me,” his mother says. Even though she was standing just outside the door, her voices sounded like it was coming from above water, and Alec was sinking deeper. The light faded to black again, and time stopped moving. 

The next time he feels hands on his body, they’re hooked under his armpits, and his eyes flutter open for a moment, but all he sees are stars. The lights in the city are too bright, you could barely see the night sky through them. He doesn’t remember a time in his life when he could see so many stars. Someone pulls his body, and his feet slip out from under him. His knees fall to the ground, poked by grass. A voice mutters something into his ear, but he can’t understand it. It was familiar, and he follows it, moving in the darkness. 

_ “Alexander won the science fair this year,” Robert says, his hands resting on his son’s shoulders. Alec just smiles at the couple standing in front of him. He had seen them before, but he mostly remembered them because they had pinched his cheeks too much when he was younger. Thankfully, once he reached age twelve, they had decided he had grown out of it. His suit felt like it was already too small. His growth spurt made every pair of pants look like capris, and his mother had not been happy that morning when he walked out in it. After a few more minutes of over-exaggerating Alec’s accomplishments, Robert finally lets his son go.  _

_ Alec wanders around for a minute in search of his sister. She could always cheer him up at parties like this. Doners were very important to his parents, although he didn’t exactly know why. All he knew was that he felt too old when he was talking to the other kids, but too young when he was with the adults. At first, he had assumed that puberty was messing with him. He finds Simon in the crowd, his friend sticking out from how frizzy his hair had gotten. He had insisted on growing it out, despite his mother’s complaints. As he approaches, Alec realizes that Simon is with several other boys their age. He stops, watching as Simon laughed, and the boys continued talking. Alec turns around and pushes through the crowd. _

_ His mother speaks to Camille Belcourt, the CEO. Someone who he was supposed to care about, but he didn’t know why. She didn’t seem much different from his mother. Expensive clothes. Fake smiles. Alec swerves around a waiter and steps in between a group of people talking. He ignores their eyes on him and finally gets away from the crowd, turning the corner of the venue. Why did his chest hurt so much all of a sudden? He finds his way to the bathroom and locks the door behind him. _

_ On the sink he spots a bar of soap molded to look like a mermaid. He had never understood why rich people cared so much about the shape of soap. He takes a few deep breaths, but despite his best efforts, he can’t stop the overwhelming feeling of worry that over takes his body. He knew that his father was only proud of his science fair win on the surface. In reality, winning the science fair didn’t matter to a Lightwood. It was only a small step in following in his father’s footsteps. Harvard wouldn’t care whether or not he had made a nice poster board. It was stupid. Why did a poster board have to feel so important? Hastily, Alec steps toward the sink, grabbing the soap mermaid. He throws it as hard as he can at the wall, watching it break into a few pieces.  _

_ Nothing felt like it mattered anymore. Alec was starting to wonder if it ever did. His childhood was simple, mostly filled with him and Isabelle playing with her stuffed animals, or doing extra schoolwork with a tutor. At that age he didn’t realize how useless everything was. The idea of pleasing his father made sense to him. Just once, he wished his father would so much as smile at him. But then again, did his father’s approval mean anything? All Alec wanted was the feeling of a warm hug. In fact, he would be perfectly happy if the Earth swallowed him up, and everything faded to darkness.  _

_ He blinks a few times, and looks at himself in the mirror. His heart pounded against his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it to stop. Hesitantly, he runs cold water over his hands, and closes his eyes. The feeling brought him back to reality. He takes a deep breath, and returns to the party. That night, after he turns off the light in his room, the darkness felt like a warm blanket, hiding him from the rest of the world.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! <3 one chapter to go


	17. I Hope To Be Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://8tracks.com/ggalinda/my-mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW disordered eating, suicidal thoughts, drug use

When Alec opens his eyes, he’s staring at a ceiling he had never seen before. A polished wood with a few cracks, with no lighting. He turns on his side, his muscles begging him to stop moving. The room is dim, only lit by a floor lamp in the corner. Before he can get a good look, he’s doubling over. Next to the bed there was a metal trash can, and he grabs it just in time to spill the contents of his stomach. His throat burns with every heave, and even if he didn’t remember, he could tell he must have been throwing up before. Once he’s done, he takes a deep breath and sits back up. The room smelled like dust, making his nose tingle from his allergies. It was scarcely furnished, with just the creaky wooden bed and a dresser with cracked paint.

Alec tries to get off the bed, but his head was pounding, and his entire body felt like it had been body slammed. He looks down at himself, not recognizing the clothes he was wearing. An oversized sweatshirt with a picture of a mountain on it, and plaid pajama pants he had never seen before. He places his feet on the cold floor, and steps forward. His legs buckle and he falls to the floor, catching himself on his hands and knees. He sighs weakly and turns to lay on his back, looking back up at the ceiling. His forehead starts dripping in sweat, and his skin suddenly felt like every inch was begging to be scratched. Just as he’s about to drift off again, someone opens the door. 

“Honey, what are you doing?” a woman’s voice asks. He feels a soft hand on his cheek, cradling it. The woman hooks her hands under his armpits and helps him sit up. “You shouldn’t move too quickly, you’ll only make yourself dizzier,” she wipes off his forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. Alec’s eyes focus again, falling on her face. 

“Mom?” he asks, his voice quiet and hoarse. It hurt to speak, as if he had been yelling. “What... Where am I?” He expected her to tell him that he was in a rehab center, and that he was getting sent back to prison. His memory of exactly what happened was foggy, but he remembered seeing red and blue flashing lights. 

“My family’s cabin, in Rochester,” Maryse says. She spoke calmly, her voice like a warm blanket. He didn’t remember driving to Rochester. Wouldn’t he have remembered a  five-hour drive? “You need to get on the bed.” She helps him up, supporting most of his weight.

As Alec sits on the mattress again, he feels his headache getting worse, and suddenly even the lamp was too bright. His stomach churns with nausea, and he reaches for the bin again. Swiftly, Maryse holds it for him and he vomits again. Tears swell in his eyes as he heaves, the pain nearly unbearable. With every cough his sore muscles hurt, and his throat felt like it was getting tighter. By the time he’s finished, he wants to go back to sleep, but Maryse props him up in the bed. In his chest he felt the urge to use growing worse. He needed a quick fix, and he knew it would make him feel better. His eyes dart around the room, but there’s nothing. Maryse holds his hand and squeezes it tightly, enough that it hurt. He gasps and looks at her. “I know what you’re thinking about,” Maryse says. He swallows, the taste of bile stinging his tongue. 

Alec looks at her for a moment. The grey strands of hair mixed with what was left of her natural hair color. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, some of it falling in her face. Her eyes were outlined with purple dark circles, and her lips were chapped. She was dressed plainly, in an old college sweatshirt and jeans. He had never seen her look so tired. When she moved it looked like it was in slow motion, and he wondered how long she had been awake. “What happened?” Alec asks. All he could remember was an intense feeling of fear, one that was directed at Simon. But the time in between his hook up and now was missing. 

Maryse sighs and sits next to him on the bed, her legs hanging off the side. She doesn’t pull her hand away from his. “I don’t know the exact details, but I can tell you that you saved Simon’s life. According to the nurse, you had stopped him from overdosing. That was two days ago.” Alec thinks back to the pills on the bathroom floor, and it all comes back. Running up the stairs. Tackling Simon and pinning him down. Then, the hard thud of his own body hitting the floor. “Whatever you did must have been physically exerting, because you passed out. You have arrythmia.” Alec looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “An irregular heartbeat. A side effect from the drug use. Don’t worry, it will go away with time.” 

“Is Simon okay?” Alec asks. His head felt heavy, and it was getting harder for him to keep his eyes open. 

“He’s still in the hospital. Going through withdrawal, just like you are.” Alec’s mind flashes back to that night in the cell when he had kissed Jace. How hard the walls were, and how cold his body felt. How badly he had just wanted to curl up into a ball and never feel anything again. “Elaine flew back into the city immediately. But she was too late, Simon had already confessed.” 

Alec looks down at her hand. He expects her to pull it away. He had been lying to everyone for years, including her. Throughout his life, his mother had always been  goal oriented. Everything she did was for the business. Everything her children did was for their future. Affection didn’t matter, not as much as her ensuring they would succeed did. He had failed her, so why was she still with him? “I’m sorry,” Alec says. “I... I just... I went along with what Jace wanted. He knew that Simon wasn’t cut out for prison. It was an accident. He said that it was who he was meant to be. He said he was supposed to be like his father.” 

“So were you,” Maryse says. Her other hand cups his cheek again, and he feels his stubble scraping her finger tips. “All of this happened because we pushed you too hard to follow in his footsteps. There was a time when I loved your father. He used to be different. And I know you see so much of yourself in him. But... Even though Robert paid for what he did financially, I’m not sure he felt bad about it. But... you’ve been carrying this with you for seven years. And it’s taking you away from me,” her voice breaks. “It’s destroying your body. It’s destroyed your mind. Alec... I can’t lose you. You’ve paid for what you did already. You don’t need to lose yourself completely... I can’t afford to lose you.” 

For the first time, Alec sees the pain in his mother’s eyes that he had caused. When he had first started using, it was to mute the way that she made him feel. His relationship with Andrew Underhill was a form of revenge. He knew the sex was wrong, but he did it because he wanted to hurt her. He pushed her away from him, sneaking out and getting high, because he wanted her to feel pain. But now that he was seeing it, finally seeing it right in front of him, he wasn’t happy. Instead, he shared it with her. Alec feels a lump form in his throat, and he turns away, looking at the wall. He thinks back to what Simon had said to him on the bathroom floor. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks. 

Maryse’s thumb runs small circles on his cheek, smearing the sweat. Her hands were cold, feeling like ice on his burning skin. “The doctors wanted to keep you another day, but I had to get you out of there. I wanted to bring you somewhere quiet.” 

“No, I...” he takes a strained breath. It was getting harder for him to keep his eyes open. “Why won’t you just let me go? Just let me die, Mom. It’s what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted all this time. I’ve just been a coward.” He feels her go still, just for a moment, before she stands up. 

“Alexander,” she says, and he turns around to see tears streaming down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, and Alec shifts on the bed. He could feel his skin growing hotter, and his shirt was starting to stick to his chest. His skin felt like it was on fire, and his stomach hurt with a stinging pain. He gasps at the sensation, falling further into his pillow and closing his eyes. Maryse rushes out of the room, and for a moment, Alec is convinced that she wasn’t going to come back. But when she returns, she’s holding an ice pack and a small bottle of one of the protein shakes Isabelle had tried to get him to drink. As his mother climbs onto the bed again, Alec realizes that he must have been having a hot flash. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate at all, much less anything with nutrition. 

Maryse gently pulls Alec up and slides behind him, tilting the mattress back. He feels her hands under his arm pits again and he pulls away. “No,” he complains. “Mom, please. Just... leave me alone.” She doesn’t listen, instead using all her strength to pull him onto her lap. He was too tall, his body curling inward on itself to stay up. One part of him was trying to get away from her, to go lie someplace dark and embrace the pain he was feeling. But, another part of him wanted so badly to just be held by his mother. He didn’t have the energy to get away from her. “I’m a murderer, don’t you care?” 

“It’s okay,” Maryse whispers, wrapping her arm around his shoulder blades. She holds him against her chest, and he rests his forehead on the top of her shoulder. “You’re okay, Alec. You aren’t a bad person. You aren’t a murderer. You’ve never been all the bad things you say you are,” she kisses the top of his head before pressing the ice pack against the back of his neck. He knew he was too old to be cradled in his mother’s arms, sitting on her lap. And when he feels himself starting to sob, he knows he’s far too old to be crying on his mother’s shoulder. That night in the store he wasn’t the one who had lost their life. But now, in the warm embrace of his mother, he felt like he was mourning his own death. As if that day, he was the one who was really lost. Maryse felt it too, and for what felt like hours, they mourned together. 

“You need to drink this,” Maryse says once Alec’s body finally stops shaking with sobs. Gently, she tilts his head back, and he sees the open bottle of protein. He shakes his head. It felt like nothing would make his body stop hurting. “Honey, please. You need to nourish your body. You need to start healing,” Alec shakes his head, firmly keeping his mouth closed. “Let me help you heal. Please. I can’t lose you. You’re still my little boy.” 

Alec closes his eyes, and he feels his mother’s hand travel up, cradling the back of his head. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, sticky with sweat. The voice in his head was telling him to push her away. They were in a cabin, far away from the city. No one else was around. She would be the last person he could get away from. But, hesitantly, he lets his jaw go slack. Slowly, Maryse raises the bottle up to his lips, and tilts it. The liquid tasted sweet, and it was  luke warm. The more he swallowed, the more desperate he became. He had deprived himself of everything good for him for so long. His knees knock against each other just as he takes the last sip, and he sighs, letting the tension in his body release. 

Maryse runs her hand up and down his back in a soothing motion that felt distantly familiar. His muscles still ached, and his head was still pounding. “The first time I ever held you was in the hospital,” Maryse starts. “I was exhausted. It was ten hours of labor without an epidural. But when I looked at you for the first time, this feeling I had never felt before took over me. I felt this sense of unconditional love. The kind where I knew that all I wanted to do for the rest of my life was be there for you. For the year we had you before your sister was born, my favorite thing to do was to hold you against my chest, just like this. I wanted you to feel safe. Losing that feeling is my biggest regret.” 

Alec feels himself drifting back to sleep, and he buries his head in her chest, inhaling the faint scent of her perfume. It was the same as it had smelled his first day of school. He had cried when she tried to leave that morning. She had knelt down and hugged him, burying his head in her shoulder. As he feels himself starting to lose consciousness, Alec sighs. “It’s okay,” he mutters, before everything becomes silent again. 

_ The sides of Alec’s hands were starting to bruise from banging on the door. His wrists ached, and he felt the bandages sticking to his skin from the blood that had stained them. From the way it had started to itch, he wondered if the wound was becoming infected. “I can’t be in here anymore,” Alec yells through the door. The room was dim, the white walls looking greyer. Alec’s back ached from the concrete bed. He missed the cardboard mattress he had in his bunk. “Please, I didn’t do anything.” By the time he had finally gotten over his withdrawal headache, a week had gone by in the small cell with no interaction. All he had heard was that the guards were instructed to not listen to him. According to the medical wing, he was a danger to himself, and needed time alone. _

_ “Will you just shut the fuck up?” The prisoner in the room next to his yells. “They aren’t letting you out. You’re just annoying the rest of us.”  _

_ Alec bangs on the door again, peering out of the small window in the door. No one was there. He sighs and steps away from the door. The room smelled like metal, and he sits down on the floor in front of the small bed. He thinks back to that night in the holding cell with Jace. Even though they were both reeling from the withdrawal, it was nice to even have one person with him. He tries to close his eyes and sleep off the time, but the image of Sebastian being dragged away by the guards is still fresh in his mind. His knees were still bruised from that day in the bathroom.  _

_ Unable to sit still, Alec gets back up and starts pacing around the room. He wasn’t a stranger to using his body to get something he wanted. Surely, that justified what happened, right? Sebastian had always made sure that he and Alec only ever did what they were doing because they wanted to. The payoff was worth it. Ketamine made the days go by faster. It made the voices in Alec’s head quieter. He had stopped flinching whenever someone made a loud noise, thinking it was a gun shot. Sebastian reminded him of Jace. He could tell that the other man was misunderstood. That what he did was a byproduct of his poor mental state. He hadn’t meant to cause the accident. _

_ The more Alec thought about Jace, the more he realized that he couldn’t be locked away with himself any longer. He needed to find a way to get out of solitary and back into general population. At least there, everyone was too loud and it was too crowded for him to get lost too deep in thought. The guard comes by with dinner, a tray of sad, bland food that tasted like plaster. Alec doesn’t eat it, instead letting it dry out. Eventually, he falls asleep on the hard bed, and when he wakes up the tray is gone, replaced with another one. He doesn’t eat that one either, only drinking what little water they left him. _

_ By the end of the day, his stomach churned, begging for him to eat something, but he ignores it. The nauseas feeling distracted him from the pain of his wrists. He focused on the feeling of emptiness in his body, and how light headed he was getting. The first three days without eating had gone by incredibly slow. Every minute felt like an hour. His shoulder ached from lying on his side all day. His thoughts were consumed by food. Late at night, he had decided that he was willing to kill someone for a slice of pizza from the boardwalk in Long Island. _

_ “Wake up, Alexander,” he hears a voice calling to him. “You never wake up on time, do you? It’s not hard to set an alarm.” Alec turns around on the bed, his eyes falling on his father, standing over him in one of his more expensive suits. “I’m not surprised you’re here.”  _

_ “What?” Alec mutters, narrowing his eyes. Robert crossed his arms and glared at his oldest son.  _

_ “You never were cut out to follow in my footsteps. You’ve always been a disappointment to the Lightwood name. You were never smart enough. Never charismatic enough. I knew it wasn’t going to happen the day I saw you playing dolls with your sister instead of spending time with the other boys your age,” Alec’s eyes widen as Robert kneels down in front of him, looking fifteen years younger. The hair on his head was back, slicked with gel and dark. His wrinkles were gone, and his smile was lopsided, the way it was when Alec was a kid. Instead of the suit he was wearing one of his old college t-shirts that he only used to wear on weekends. Back when he didn’t work weekends. As Alec stared at him, he could see how they looked alike, with the same sharp cheek bones and dark eyebrows that made them look mad all the time. _

_ “I had hope for you,” Robert continues, his voice still stern. “I thought maybe, somehow, you would prevail. We’ve always been fighters, us Lightwood men. My grandfather built his business from the ground up. My father is one who merged it with the  _ _ Belcourts _ _. And now, I’ve climbed back up the ladder, in hopes of passing it off to you. But we couldn’t. Why do you think we had Maxwell? To replace you. Where you weren’t enough, he will make up for it. Isn’t that cruel of you, Alexander? Passing off the heavy weight of your future to your poor little brother. You threw it all away for a little  _ _ delinquent _ _ who never liked you as much as you liked him.”  _

_ Alec sits up on the bed, feeling the blood rush to his head. When his vision focuses, the room is empty. “What?” He asks to himself. As he stands up, looking around for his father, the door opens.  _

_ One of the guards slides out the dinner from the night before with a sigh. He pushes forward the breakfast tray, which only shows a small slice of toast and dried scrambled eggs. “How long are you going to keep this up, inmate?” the guard asks, but Alec doesn’t respond. After that, the days start to mend together. Alec replays that night in the store over and over. The gun shot. Blood on his shoes. Simon screaming. Jace recoiling when Alec kissed him. The bruises on his knuckles from the fight. _

_ He doesn’t know how long it’s been anymore. Sometimes, he could hear the other prisoners in the yard, working out or talking amongst themselves. His chest aches as he thinks back to the short make out  _ _ sessions _ _ he and Sebastian would sneak in. Or how they would stretch together, enjoying the little time they had outside.  _ _ How _ _ last winter, Sebastian had dumped a handful of snow down the back of Alec’s clothes. He had been so mad with Sebastian after that day in the bathroom. The humiliation. The confusion. He had questioned to himself if he liked it. Once he closed his eyes, it had felt like every other time he and Sebastian were together. It was only afterward that he felt used and disgusted with himself. Sebastian must have felt the same. But instead of talking to him about it, he let Sebastian stew alone, the same way he had.  _

_ It was getting harder for Alec to get his body off the bed in the morning. His arms shook trying to hold up his body weight. The hungry feeling in his stomach had gone away, and instead he just felt like he was walking on air when he moved. Falling asleep was easier than it had ever been. “I knew that prison wasn’t the place for you, you know,” Alec hears a voice say, sounding like it was calling out to him from miles away. “People like you don’t do well here.”  _

_ Alec opens his eyes, looking around the room. They fall on the image of Jace, dressed in his usual denim jacket and thrifted jeans. He was smirking, and his hair fell on the sides of his face, framing his jaw line. He hadn’t aged a day, still looking like the cocky sixteen-year-old Alec remembered from before they had started taking harder drugs. “Jace?” Alec whispers. “I’m... sorry. You shouldn’t be here.”  _

_ “Don’t be sorry,” Jace responds. His voice sounded as if it was underwater. “After all, we were always different, weren’t we? You went home to your high-end Manhattan apartment and on the weekends dressed in a suit to fake smile at your parents’ coworkers. I went home and watched while my Dad got shitfaced and passed out on the old couch. I mean, come on, you didn’t really think that we could ever be together, did you?” Jace asks. He pulls a cigarette out of nowhere and lights it, the smoke streaming up. “I mean, let's face it. The only reason we were ever friends is because you and Simon were the only people at that stupid school who didn’t see through my bullshit. Everyone else knew I was trash.”  _

_ “You were never trash,” Alec responds, his voice weak. “You... You understood...” _

_ “I understood that you were just a poor, sad soul?” Jace interrupts. “Only I understood poor Alec Lightwood. Only I knew all the handshakes and smiles were fake. Only I knew who he really was behind closed doors. You can keep telling yourself that, Alec. We both know it’s not true. You’re too broken to ever be loved the way you want to. No one really knows who you are. Maybe it’s for the best you ended up here. Alone. It’s what you deserve, isn’t it?” _

_ Alec closes his eyes and forces his body up to a sitting position. “Just... shut up,” he mutters.  _

_ “What? You can’t shut me up, Alec. I’m you.” As Alec opens his eyes and stands up, ready to face his friend, he realizes the room is empty. For a moment, he stands still, feeling the cool air of the cell on his skin. Then, the door opens, and when Alec steps forward, all he sees is the concrete floor coming at him.  _

The next couple of weeks  were the calmest Alec had ever been. He had gained enough energy to move around the cabin. It was smaller than he expected. His mother explained that her family was well-off, but not nearly as much as Robert’s. It was scarcely furnished, and had been kept by a neighbor since Alec was born. The clothes she had put him in were her father’s, unworn for years. For the most part, they barely talked. His head was still pounding. Maryse kept the lights off and the curtains closed. No matter how much he asked, she refused to give him any painkillers. He thought about using often. 

While he never ventured outside the cabin, he noticed how quiet it was outside. His entire life, there had always been the background noise of the city. Cars honking. Crowds talking. Here, the most he ever heard was the leaves rustling in the summer breeze. Every night, Alec would sit next to his mother and watch reruns of Jeopardy. She knew most of the answers, and it made Alec wonder how much different her life could have been if he was never born. He believed her when she told him that having children was the highlight of her life. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like a burden.

Over time, his headache went away. His muscles were still sore. Maybe they were supposed to be that way. Chronic pain felt like a fair punishment for what he had done. The last time he got clean, he had been too distracted by his surroundings to notice how twitchy he had become, or how paranoid he was. At Rikers, he was too worried about fitting in and getting through his time. Sometimes, Maryse would fall asleep on the bed with him. He would wake up in the middle of the night, sure that she would be gone. That she had finally left him, like she was supposed to. But she never did. Slowly, he was learning to forgive her. It felt wrong. He had spent his entire life holding a grudge against her. 

“When we get back to the city, we should start going to yoga again,” Maryse says. Her hands press into his back muscles, kneading at the tense flesh. Alec shrugs, leaning back against the side of the bathtub he was in. The bubbles were dense so his mother couldn’t see beneath the water. “My joints hurt just seeing you, Alec.” Her hands travel up to his head, and she scrubs his scalp with shampoo. Alec closes his eyes, relaxing into the sensation. “Where does all this tension come from?” 

“I think it’s always been there, Mom,” Alec says. He feels her reach for the pitcher of water sitting on the edge of the tub. It’s quiet as she rinses the soap out of his hair, and he feels himself starting to fall asleep. 

“Elaine called me this morning,” Maryse says once she’s finished. She sits back, leaning against the wall. Alec turns around slowly, trying not to spill any of the water. “Simon is feeling better. He’s in a rehab facility again. She’s grateful you were there, you know.” 

Alec shrugs, feeling the water on his shoulders turning cold. “Raphael’s the one who called me. I was... out. I knew he was upset. If I hadn’t left him alone, then I could’ve-”

“There’s nothing you could have done, Alec,” Maryse interrupts. “It wasn’t the first time Simon has felt that way. And seeing how carrying this secret has destroyed you... I can’t imagine what it has done to Simon.” 

“What’s going to happen to him?” Alec asks. From his experience, he knew that prison would be a bad place for Simon.

“Elaine Lewis is good at her job,” Maryse says. “Involuntary manslaughter. It’s a ten-year sentence. She’s planning on convincing the judge to put him at Bellevue’s hospital ward. Knowing her history in court, I’m sure she’ll get what she wants.” Alec doesn’t respond, instead staring off behind his mother. “You have the same look on your face that your father got when he was thinking too hard.” 

Alec consciously relaxes his eyebrows, feeling the tension ease from his forehead. “What about Jace?” he asks. He knew his mother had always thought poorly of his friend. She had thought he was a bad influence. He was, in a way. Although now, Alec knew he himself was more to blame for their addiction than he wanted to admit.

“At the request of Simon, Elaine is working to get the rest of the sentence pardoned. He’ll be free again,” Maryse says. “I know you feel guilty for what’s happened. But, Alec... you were only doing what he asked. He didn’t have to offer to take the blame. It’s important that you try to remember that you’ve paid for what you did. The rest is out of your hands. It may be hypocritical of me to say this, but... you need to start forgiving yourself.”

After making sure Alec’s okay to finish up, Maryse leaves to start cooking dinner. Alec conditions his hair. The scent reminded him of Magnus. He had missed when they took showers together. The early mornings when both of them were too tired to talk were some of his favorite moments. But then he thinks about when he saw Magnus on the newscast. He was doing so well for himself. Happier without Alec. And here Alec was, being taken care of by his mother like a child. 

The kitchen smells like simmering oil and fresh herbs when he walks in. He had grown used to takeout food. His parents had been so busy with work that they rarely cooked. Maryse gestures to an onion sitting on the counter with a nod, and Alec gets to work peeling it. As the knife breaches the vegetable, the aroma stings his eyes. Involuntarily, his eyes begin to water, but he ignores it. He slices the onion into small chunks and then watches as Maryse scrapes the cutting board with the knife, dumping the contents into the pan. On the stove, the pot of boiling water begins to boil over, and Alec quickly begins stirring it. He watches as the pasta begins to soften. His hands shook, and the tears in his eyes hadn’t yet gone away. 

“What’s wrong?” Maryse asks, although her back was still to him as she sliced the store-bought bread.

“It’s just the onion,” Alec answers. 

“I know I’ve neglected getting to know you the right way. But I’m a quick learner, Alec.” 

Alec sighs and places the large spoon down on the counter next to him. “I still miss Magnus,” he says. “I know he’s better off without me, but-”

“Don’t say that,” Maryse interrupts. “He cares about you deeply. I’m sure he is still just as torn up as you are.” 

“He’s gotten an offer at the Jeffersonian. It’s a great job, and after this summer they’ll probably ask him to work full time. He doesn’t need a burnout like me ruining his future,” Alec says.

“I’m sure it’s a very prestigious position in his field,” Maryse says. “But you know Magnus better than anyone. You know why he took the job.” 

“Because it’s better than hanging out with me.” 

Maryse shakes her head and stirs the sauce on the stove in front of her. “You two are very alike,” Alec shrugs, and Maryse sighs. “Alexander, he took the job so that he would have a distraction from his feelings for you. I don’t know the details of his past like you do, but I could tell it took a lot for him to let you go the way he did.”

“Well, he’s doing just fine without me,” Alec says. The noodles start to boil over again, and he rushes to stir it before the foam breaches the edge of the pan.

“An interview on the news does not mean anything about how he’s actually feeling,” Maryse says. “Sometimes, it’s best to be patient, and let everything fall into place.” 

The next day, the clouds cover the sunlight, and Alec decides to read on the porch instead of hidden in his room. Usually, he wouldn’t see anyone went he opened the blinds to look out the window. He knew, realistically, if he did no one would know who he was. But late at night, deep in his paranoia, he would convince himself that anyone he came across would know everything about his past. It’s quiet, aside from a light breeze and the occasional call of the birds chirping in the pine trees. His mother had gone through the boxes hidden in the basement, digging up his grandfather’s sci-fi collection from the 70s. The books were cheesy, but they helped pass time and keep his mind off of the growing need to use. 

Just as he turns one of the pages, he hears the sound of tires pulling up on the gravel driveway. He looks up, spotting a car that seemed familiar. Just as he’s considering escaping back into the house, a familiar figure steps out of the driver's side. Luke Garroway, wearing a loosely fitted Henley and jeans instead of the polished suits Alec was used to. He spots Alec immediately and waves before starting to make his way toward the porch. Alec stands up to go back inside, but stops when he hears the other man’s voice. “Don’t even think about it!” he yells. 

Alec rolls his eyes and sits back down on the swinging bench he was lounging on. It creaks as it holds his weight, swaying in the breeze. “I wasn’t expecting company,” Alec says as Luke steps onto the porch. He stands across from him, leaning on the wooden railing.

“I know,” the therapist says. “I told your mother not to tell you I was coming. I didn’t want to give you the chance to overthink.” 

“Too late for that,” Alec says.

Dr. Garroway crosses his arms, looking over Alec with a concerned gaze. “You seem to be recovering well,” he says. “The first ten weeks of sobriety are the most important. It’s going to seem like all you can think about are the drugs. But over time, your mind will clear itself of the addiction.” Alec closes the book and tosses it onto the dusty table in front of him. “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?” the doctor asks, but Alec doesn’t respond. “Having to think about your past without the high.” 

“My mom keeps me distracted enough here,” Alec says. “There’s dozens of books to read. Sometimes we walk around the block. I’m gaining back the weight I lost. My permanent headache is finally going away.” 

“It’s nice to see you so at ease,” Dr. Garroway says. “The last time we saw each other was... well...” 

“I’m sorry I stormed out of your office,” Alec says, frowning. 

“Don’t be,” Dr. Garroway says. “You aren’t the first person to quit therapy. I wanted to wait until you were back in the city to approach you about starting our sessions again, but... well... this thing with Simon Lewis seems pretty important. I want to hear the story from you.” 

Alec shrugs, looking past Luke at the trees swaying in the wind. “There isn’t much to tell. I beat up an innocent man. And Simon killed him.” 

“It’s about more than that, Alec,” Dr. Garroway says. “It shows a lot about you as a person. You’re loyal to the people you care about. Enough that you would carry the burden of a lie that big. All that weight on your conscience would mess anyone up. Now that it’s all in the open, don’t you feel relieved?”

Alec wants to walk back into the cabin. He had left therapy for a reason. Despite how far they had gone in his sessions before he quit, he knew that deep down, he was scared about how he would see himself once everything he had been hiding rose to the surface. “I feel like I’m supposed to be relieved,” Alec says. “I don’t have to lie to anyone anymore, but... I mostly just feel guilty. I know his mother is going to get him admitted to a hospital ward instead of a real prison, but... being locked up changes you. And Simon...” Alec groans and closes his eyes. “I am such a fucking asshole.” 

“I’m not disagreeing, but I feel like I should ask why you think that,” Dr. Garroway says, the end of his mouth curled up in a smirk. Alec glares at him.

“I’m worried about how Simon’s going to do in prison. And I feel bad that I let Jace do what he did. How can I be so selfish when I’m part of the reason an innocent girl lost her father?”

“Grief is multifaceted,” Dr. Garroway says. “You can mourn the death of this man. You should. If you didn’t, I would be worried about you. But you can also mourn the loss of your innocence. You can mourn the loss of your friends. In the physical and psychological sense. The three of you haven’t been the same since that night. You lost part of yourself. But with time, you will learn to forgive yourself. You’ve done your time making up for the crime you committed. Now, it’s time to start healing all the  self-harm you’ve done over the years trying to make up for one mistake.” 

Alec looks up at the therapist, feeling a lump growing in his throat. He felt his hands starting to shake, and the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. Hesitantly, he scoots over on the bench. Dr. Garroway slowly steps forward and sits next to Alec. For a long time, they sit in silence. On the horizon, the sun starts to set, and the clouds become lit with a bright orange hue. “That day,” Alec starts, his voice quiet. “When I... When I tried to kill myself.” He had never said it so bluntly before. “I thought that it would make up for what happened. I... I wanted the voices to stop. I wanted the guilt to go away. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had pushed everyone away. Nothing mattered. But... when I... when I woke up in the medical ward, I secretly felt glad. And that made me feel guilty.” 

Dr. Garroway sighs, before standing up. He holds a hand out to Alec. “This is just the surface, Alexander. Together, I think we can figure out who you really are. If you’ll let me guide you.” Alec stares at the other man’s hand, before taking it in his own. He stands up, and the therapist wraps his arm around Alec’s shoulder. When he pulls away, he’s smiling. “Now, I heard there was leftover pasta?” 

Later that week, Alec and his mother had begun their yoga practice again. It wasn’t as intensive as it was when they went to class, but it was enough to help Alec ease the pain in his muscles. His favorite time of day was after dinner, when the mosquitoes came out and the sun was just bright enough that Alec could see the shapes of the other houses and greenery around him. He would set up a towel on the porch and try to meditate, focusing on the sounds of the birds. Just as he’s getting ready to go outside, he hears a knock on the door. For a moment, he thinks it’s his mother, and she locked herself out of the house. But he could still hear the kitchen sink running as she cleaned the dishes from their dinner. 

Alec almost doesn’t open the door. But then he thought it could be one of his siblings. He thought about Isabelle and Max often, but they had rarely spoken since he arrived at the cabin. Maryse had been careful not to overwhelm him. When the opens the door, he drops the towel in his hand at the sight of Magnus. The other man was in his familiar faded NYU t-shirt and high-waisted jeans. His glasses sat low and crooked on his nose, and his hair was disheveled, sticking out in different directions. “What... what are you doing here?” Alec asks, his voice quiet and higher pitched. The same it had been when he realized Magnus was breaking up with him. 

“Isabelle called me this morning. She told me what happened, and I...” Magnus starts. Even though it was clear that he had just been driving, he was out of breath. “I came as soon as I could. I had to see you... I wanted to see if you were okay for myself. Alec, I...” he takes a deep breath. 

“What about your job offer?” Alec asks. Since seeing Magnus on T.V., he was convinced that the other man was doing just fine without him. But now, standing in front of him, he just looked tired and distressed.

“I quit.”

“What? Why?”

“I thought I was making the rational choice when I broke things off between us. All of my therapists have taught me that if you love someone, you’ll let them go when you’re supposed to. I thought I had to put myself first, to protect myself from getting my heart broken again,” he pauses for a moment, and Alec thinks back to the picture of Magnus’s mother he had seen just once. “But without you, I’ve been so lost. I had my dream job, but every day felt so empty. I was just going through the motions. I shouldn’t have left at all. I’m sorry.” 

Behind them, Alec could hear Maryse moving in the kitchen. He looks behind him for a moment, before gesturing outside. He closes the door behind him, and he and Magnus step off the porch. Alec leads him off the property, and they start walking along the road. “You don’t need to apologize,” Alec says. “I’ve been pushing everyone away my entire life. I know your history... with drugs. I knew it would only hurt you if I started using again. I should’ve... I don’t know...” 

“We shouldn’t get too caught up in what could’ve been,” Magnus says. “It will only lead to us spiraling about what we should’ve done. I really came down here to talk about what we should start doing. I... I’ve been so lonely without you. I’ve been in many relationships before. No matter how long they lasted, I always thought the problem was me. I was too broken to deserve someone in my life. It’s why I have such a history with infidelity. I wanted my partners to have an obvious reason to leave me. I was so scared they would leave me because of who I was. But when I met you, it felt... different.”

“You represent everything that has caused the hardship in my life,” Magnus continues. “When you told me that you were a recovering addict, it felt like, on the inside, a younger version of myself was screaming at me to leave you alone. Because seeing you in pain was hard enough, and knowing how you were dealing with it was even worse. And yet I was so drawn to you. That day, at the conference, when you stood up for me, I had never felt safer in my entire life.” 

Alec stops walking for a moment. He had never thought that he could make anyone feel safe. Especially since his mother had taken him to the cabin, he had just felt useless. “I just... I don’t fit in with your life, Magnus,” he confesses. “You deserve someone who’s equal to you. Someone with an education, who’s able to keep up with you in conversation. Someone who’s comfortable going to-” 

“Alexander, you  _ are  _ my equal,” Magnus interrupts. “Academia is my passion. I do it because I love education, and I love studying history. But it’s also just... my job. We’re just two sides of the same coin. I pursued higher education and worked so hard to get to where I am because I felt like I had something to prove. I hated where I came from. I thought if I could become successful, I could distance myself from the life my mother left for me. I wanted to distance myself from the idea that I was somehow a failure because of what happened to her. And you... you’ve distanced yourself from your family, because you too feared failure. Our parents may come from two different worlds, but they both left expectations that we both sought to get away from.”

“But we’re so different, Magnus,” Alec says. “I’m just a burnout. I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m being cared for by my mother. It’s pathetic. It’s like-”

“Alec, I love you for  _ you.  _ You’re caring. You see deeper into people past who they are on the surface. You have such compassion, for everyone you meet. Despite your family’s status, you never take anything for granted.” 

“I’m a murderer, Magnus,” Alec blurts out. Magnus stares at him, his expression unreadable. After an awkward moment of silence, Alec confesses to what really happened that night in the store. As he speaks, he sees Magnus’s shoulders drop, and the muscles in his face relaxes. He knew that Magnus could tell he was hiding something before they broke up. As Alec finished the story, he was sure that the other man would walk away. 

His entire life, Alec had thought that if he showed who he really was, no one would want to be around him. He hid himself from his family, putting up the persona of the reclusive son. Simon and Jace saw a more raw side of him, but they never got to see his total vulnerability. Sebastian saw him at his worst, and even then, he felt like there was a distance between them. But as Magnus looks at him, he feels a sense of contentment between them. 

“I don’t blame you for keeping it a secret,” Magnus says. “I’m not angry you didn’t tell me. I’m... happy that you did,” he sighs and looks off at the trees, the leave loose in the wind. “You don’t have to bear this part of yourself alone, Alexander. I want to be there for you. If you want me to be.” Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Alec forgets everything around him. Magnus’s eyes reminded him of coffee in the early mornings, and how the sunrise leaked in through the curtains. His soft skin, illuminated and dewy.

Alec feels his heart beating faster, and he takes a deep breath. The sense of longing that he had felt since they met had never gone away. “I’m still discovering parts of myself,” Alec says, his voice low in his throat. “But I... I want to do this. With you. If you want to, I mean...I know it’s a lot, and I-”

“Don’t overthink it,” Magnus interrupts, his voice soft. Gently, his pinky finger brushes against Alec’s. As their hands link together, Alec slowly adjusts until he’s firmly holding Magnus’s hand within his. They stroll in silence for a while before returning back to the house. Alec felt afraid about rekindling their relationship. But it was something he wanted to fight for. And for once, he decided to let himself have a good thing. 

The ride back to the city reminds Alec of the day his mother picked him up when his sentence was over. It was just as quiet, but this time it felt like a comfortable silence. Her hands were relaxed on the wheel. That day, he felt so much resentment for her for leaving him alone for so long. He had half-expected her not to show up at all. The wound was still open, but he was willing to give her a chance to heal. Occasionally, he would catch her glancing at him, her eyebrows narrowed in worry. But the nature of their relationship had changed since arriving at the cabin. 

For a few days, he sits alone in the apartment while Maryse returns to work. He could tell Max had been around. His laundry was still in the dryer, and his coffee cups were still in the sink. Alec forces himself to stay occupied during the day, reading or catching up on the T.V. he had missed since relapsing. Dr. Garroway had encouraged him to try to refrain from staying up so late, to satiate his intrusive thoughts. Fall had taken over the city, once again orange and red leaves trailing down the street.

Just as he’s about to start another movie, he gets a text message from a familiar phone number. He responds quickly, and then grabs his coat and walks out the door. Instead of taking the subway, he walks down every block. Although he had only been gone for a short amount of time, the streets had felt like they changed. He no longer felt like everyone was watching his every move. The people around him felt like strangers, because they were. And they knew just as much about him as he knew about them. The thought was comforting. 

Maia’s in the back of the studio at her usual set-up when he arrives at the tattoo shop. When she notices he’s there, she gestures to the chair. Alec strips himself of his coat and sweatshirt, revealing his nude upper body. She doesn’t say anything as he sits on the chair. He didn’t expect her to apologize for what happened. He didn’t want her to. As she finishes setting up her equipment, she finally speaks. “So... where are you thinking?”

Alec shrugs, thinking for a moment. Then, he points to the top of his side, just under his pecks. “I just want something simple,” he says. “A pine tree.” 

“How very white boy- ish of you,” Maia says, the side of her mouth curled up in a smirk. Alec rolls his eyes, but finds himself smiling. As she starts, he sucks in a deep breath, trying to ignore the stinging pain on his skin. For a while, he just listens to the sound of the tattoo gun. “Let me know if you need a break. The ribs are one of the worst places to get inked.” 

“It’s fine,” Alec answers.

“So...” Maia trails off for a moment as she wipes the skin. “Are you going to come back to group?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only had a couple sessions with Dr. Garroway since I started therapy again.” 

“I’m glad you’re in therapy again,” Maia says. She pauses for a moment, her hand still. “I talked to Simon yesterday.”

“Are you back together?” Alec asks. 

Maia shakes her head. “I think it would be better for both of us if we just stayed friends. I told myself that I shouldn’t have talked to him again. But... we all keep secrets for a reason. I was wrong to judge him for it,” she speaks, Alec could tell that while she wasn’t saying it directly, he was part of who she was talking about. And he knew that this would only be the start of more sessions together in the future. He smiles to himself as she continues her job, the pain the last thing on his mind. 

For the next couple of months, Alec finds himself back in weekly sessions with Dr. Garroway. They were just as mentally taxing as he remembered them being. If anything, they were harder, because this time, he was actually trying to be open with his therapist. But instead of taking the subway home alone, Isabelle, Max, or his mother would meet him in the office. 

Isabelle enjoyed taking him shopping afterwards to ease his mind. He rarely made a purchase, despite how much she encouraged him. Their relationship still felt strained, but Alec tried to reassure himself that with time, they would become close again. He knew she was the reason that Magnus and him had gotten back together, and he was grateful for it. Max hated the therapist office. When he met with Alec after his sessions, they would burn off steam walking around the park, humoring the street performers. Alec watched Max around the junk food vendors, and similarly, he could feel Max’s gaze on him whenever they passed someone smoking weed. 

The first time he and Magnus kiss again, it’s chaste, just a gentle peck in front of Magnus’s apartment after a night seeing a new exhibit at the Met. While Magnus had been enamored by the artwork, Alec just found himself watching the other man. How his eyes lit up with each turn around the corner. How his jaw clenched every time Alec took his hand. How neat his hand writing was when he took notes in his journal documenting the pieces. While their relationship was moving slowly, it felt as though they were the  closest they had ever been. No matter how much Alec convinced himself that when he woke up, Magnus would be gone, he never was. 

It’s raining on the day Dr. Garroway, Magnus, and Alec take the drive to Otisville. The car smelt like McDonald’s hash browns from their greasy road trip breakfast. The drive was nearly two hours, and Alec didn’t say anything for the whole trip. Magnus rested his hand on his thigh, his thumb running in gentle circles. Dr. Garroway kept the conversation light. Magnus talked about the different types of classes he was teaching that semester. Dr. Garroway talked about a new book he was reading, for once a fiction instead of psychology. As they turn into the parking lot, Alec feels his shoulders scrunch up with tension. From a distance, he could see the yard, although no one was outside. He’s  last to get out of the car, guided by Magnus’s hand.

As they walk in, he feels the rain drops flattening his hair. He lets them drip down the side of his face, not bothering to pull up his hood. When they get into the building, Dr. Garroway does all the talking. He had informed them ahead of time that Jace would have a visitor, although they didn’t tell him who it was. Alec assumed he would think it was Clary. “You aren’t understanding me,” Dr. Garroway tells the guard in front of him. “I’m with a client who needs me to be there for the visit.” 

“I’m sorry, but we only let one visitor at a time,” the guard says, staring at him uncaringly. “No exceptions.”

Dr. Garroway sighs frustratedly, but before he can respond Alec speaks. “It’s fine,” he says. “I can go alone.” 

“Alec, are you sure that’s going to be manageable?” Magnus asks, his hand squeezing Alec’s shoulder. “It’s going to be difficult.” 

“I know,” Alec says. He takes a deep breath. “But I’ll be fine. I have you waiting for me, don’t I?” Magnus opens his mouth to respond, but then closes it, and just nods. Dr. Garroway looks at him for a moment, and then gestures to the door.

Alec walks through security alone. As they  pat down his clothes and guide him through the metal detector, his mind flashes back to when he got booked for the first time. He had been so humiliated. The guards had been rough, jerking him around through the body cavity search. They had looked at him skeptically, as if he was just fresh meat that they were eager to push around. But this time, they hardly look at him as he’s checked out and shown to the visitation room. When he walks in, he spots several inmates talking through the glass with loved ones. Crying mothers, angry wives. One person singing happy birthday, their voice monotone. It’s louder than he thought it would be. As he looks around, one of the guards gives him a dirty look.

None of the inmates at the phones resembled Jace. Alec wondered if he had saw him, and turned around. But then he spots the last window. He walks over, unsure if it would be Jace at all. He was waiting to see the slicked back blonde hair, a slight smile across his face. As he approaches, their eyes meet for the first time in years. He expects his chest to flutter, like it always did, but instead his heart drops. Jace’s eyes were darker, the once bright blue now diluted, like a still lake in the moonlight. His hair was shaved down to a buzzcut, and his face had filled out, his jawline more prominent. A jagged scar traveled across his cheek, cutting through the dark stubble. His body was fitter than Alec remembered, his arms flexing under the thin material. He wore the orange suit open down to his belly button, revealing a worn wife beater. 

As Alec reaches for the phone, Jace does the same. For a moment, neither of them says anything. It feels as though they’re sixteen again, sitting across from each other in the park, laughing at people passing by. But they were as far from that as they could be. “Hey,” Jace starts, his voice rougher than Alec remembered. “The guards don’t really like me around here, so we better start talking before they get suspicious.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alec blurts out. Jace stares at him, his eyebrows raised. “I shouldn’t have let you do what you did. It was... selfish. You don’t deserve to be in here.”

“Elaine Lewis visited me a while ago,” Jace says. “Told me that Simon had confessed. She actually apologized to me. I didn’t believe her, though. She just felt bad that her son had done something bad,” he scoffs. “But she talked to a judge and got me charged with accessory to murder instead. Half of Simon’s sentence, which I’ve already served.” 

“Then why are you still here?” Alec asks.

Jace shrugs and leans back in his chair. He smirks at Alec, and for the first time Alec sees the young man that he had once known. “Got busted for dealing last year. Most of the other inmates are crooked businessmen who already come in with an addiction. Sent me to the SHU for a few days. When I got out me and my supplier got in a fight,” he gestures to the scar on his cheek. “The guy had to go to the hospital. He was a guard. Got five years added to my sentence.” Alec bites his lip, staring at the other man. He knew how prison could bring out the worst in you. The faint scars he had on his wrists were a reminder of that. When he had imagined visiting Jace again, he thought they would have been in similar positions. He hadn’t imagined that Jace would have adapted to it the opposite way. “Look, I was right when I told you this was who I’m meant to be. I would’ve ended up here anyway.” 

“That’s not true,” Alec says. “You got into a private high school on a scholarship because you were different than this. If you hadn’t met Simon and I...” 

“I don’t have any regrets,” Jace says. “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to function in here. You know what it’s like. The voices in your head get too loud.” 

“Yeah,” Alec responds. “I spent two weeks in solitary. They only let me out because I refused food for a week.” 

Jace’s eyes widen, and then he leans forward, resting his elbows on the metal counter between them. “Shit... That’s badass. What’d you do?” 

“Attempted suicide,” Alec says as plainly as he could. Jace frowns, and for a moment, Alec can see pain in his eyes. But then he blinks, putting back up the tough persona he had always fronted. “That day in court,” Alec continues. “When I confessed. It was because I wanted to be with you, so you wouldn’t have to be alone. I thought if we were together, then maybe dealing with what we had done would have been easier.” 

“I know you, Alec,” Jace responds. “I knew that was why you confessed. I asked Elaine Lewis to talk to the judge. They got me put here instead of Rikers so that we wouldn’t be put together. I told her we were bad for each other.”

Alec stares at Jace for a moment, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch. “What?” 

“It’s true,” Jace says. “Let’s be honest with each other. For once. We just encouraged each other to get worse. Neither of us could handle our shit. We were always one-upping each other. When I... when I stole my dad’s stash, we both knew it was only going to get worse. I needed it to deal with my old man. But you... you needed it to deal with yourself. When we got sober, in the holding cell... I realized that it was my fault you got so bad. So... separating us was my way of apologizing.” 

“Do you know what it was like going to Rikers by myself?” Alec asks. He could feel himself getting angry. “I got covered in bruises the first month. I had to go to a dark place, just to survive.” 

“It is kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Jace says. “I get sent to this white-collar hell hole and you got taken to the place where guards use their nightsticks more than their words. My dad always said it was like the universe was playing some sick joke on us.” Alec looks down at his distorted reflection in the counter for a moment. “He drank himself to death a few years ago, if you were wondering.” 

Alec looks back up. He knew their time was running out. “My dad got booked for fraud last year,” he says.

Jace laughs, loud enough to get attention from the inmates next to him. One of the  guards glances over suspiciously. “Now that's rich,” Jace says. He looks back at Alec, his smile contagious. Alec laughs too, and for a moment, he feels the tension between them ease.

“Did you ever meet someone named Sebastian?” Alec asks. “Tall. Blonde hair. He transferred a few years ago.”

For a moment, Jace thinks, and then his eyes light up. “Yeah... transferred here with a few others. I  dealed to him a few times. But I haven’t seen him around since last year.” Alec sighs, and leans against the counter. “Have you heard from Clary recently?” Jace asks. His demeaner changes, shrinking down where he sat. 

“The last I heard she was traveling with a local artist to London to curate an art show,” Alec says. 

Jace shrugs, looking past Alec, at the wall behind him. “She always did better for herself without me.” They sit in silence again for a moment, and Alec could see a few of the inmates finishing their conversations. “So... you came all the way here for a reason. Not just to catch up.” 

Alec grinds his teeth, looking around for a moment. “Someone I deeply care about recently taught me about letting people go. I know we haven’t really talked, but... somehow, I always felt like you were a part of me. A reminder of a past that I’m learning to forgive myself for. I came here to... I...” 

“To officially end it,” Jace says. Alec nods. One of the guards starts walking toward Jace. For one last time, their eyes meet. Alec didn’t know this version of Jace. He was different in many ways. But as they looked at each other, he knew he was seeing the last remnants of the Jace he knew. He watches as Jace hangs up the phone, before being escorted out of sight with the other inmates. Alec waits until he’s the last person left in the visitation room before hanging up the phone. As he walks out, the first person he sees is Magnus, and he feels as though he is being welcomed into a new part of his life. 

Winter comes and goes, and for once, Alec learns to appreciate how the snow fell on the city. He goes sledding with Max in central park on the weekends. Maia had gotten him a job at the desk in her studio. He never talked to Simon, or visited him, but he got to hear how his former friend was doing through her. Sometimes, late at night, he would wake up with the sudden urge to use. But slowly, the urge was going away. Occasionally, his mother would smoke e-cigarettes with him on their balcony. He taught her how to blow smoke rings, and she had taken a liking to seeing what tricks she could do with the vapor.

In early Spring, after the snow melts, Maryse drives her children and Magnus out of the city. They stop in empty parking lot, and she trades seats with Max. He grasps the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. “Before you can move, make sure your foot is on the brake,” Maryse starts. Max looks down at his feet, and then back up at his mother, his eyes wide. “Take it out of park and put it into drive.” 

“But-”

“It’s going to be fine, Maxwell,” Maryse says. Hesitantly, Max shifts gears, and the car stays still. “Take your foot off the brake.” 

Max follows her directions, and slowly, the car starts moving down the parking lot. He laughs nervously, looking back at his siblings. “Look at the road,” Isabelle snaps. 

“We’re barely moving Izzy,” Max responds.

“You’re going to kill us.” 

“ No, I’m not.” 

“This is how I’m going to die, isn’t it?” 

“Isabelle,” Maryse says. “Stop being so dramatic. Max, put your foot on the gas-” 

Max presses his foot down on the pedal, sending the car speeding forward. He laughs again, higher pitched as Isabelle screams in the back seat. Alec feels Magnus grab onto his arm, laughing to himself. As Max slams on the breaks, everyone’s bodies lurch forward, and he catches himself on the back of the  driver's seat. “I am so going to freak you out when it’s my turn,” Isabelle says. 

“We are here so that you can start learning how to drive, not so you can give me a heart attack,” Maryse says, her voice raised. Next to Alec, he could feel Magnus trying to hide his laughter. He buries his head in Alec’s shoulder. As the car starts moving, slower, he looks over. Magnus leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Alec’s lips. For a moment, Alec closes his eyes. Just as he leans in to deepen the kiss, the car comes to another hard stop, and their heads smack together. 

“I did that on purpose,” Max says. “No PDA in my car,” he announces. 

“It’s not ever going to be your car if you don’t start taking this seriously,” Maryse says. Isabelle groans and stares up at the ceiling as Max tries again, the car slowly turning in the parking lot. Alec looks around at his family, and then back over to Magnus. He feels the other man’s hand on his knee, and feels at home. As his brother continues driving around the parking lot, his mind drifts to another place. But this time, instead of becoming lost in the tragedies of his past, he dreams of the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're here, THANK YOU so much for reading. This work has become very dear to me, but all things must come to an end. I have attached a playlist of the songs each chapter is named after. 
> 
> Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much! Please let me know what you think in the comments, and if there's anything you want to see specifically.


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